Forbidden Fruit
by Sleepwalker
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn and the ‘girl next door’ fall for each other. His apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is a less-than-thrilled bystander.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Forbidden Fruit

Author: Sleepwalker

Time: About 7 years before TPM/Episode I

Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn and the 'girl next door' fall for each other. His apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is a less-than-thrilled bystander.

Pairings: Q/f

Rating: M

Originally written from 6/99 to 4/00

Disclaimer: All characters and settings from SW and TPM are the property and product of the imagination of George Lucas. A bit of borrowing from Jude Watson's Jedi Apprentice series was also done. No profit of any kind was gained from this work. Well, I lie: new friendships were made as a result of my getting up the nerve to first post this thing in early 2000. That's worth more than all the money in the world. This is the first fan fic I ever wrote. It's a bit corny in spots, mushy in others, but it wouldn't rest until I'd typed it all out. Hope you enjoy. As with all fics, please do not reproduce or post on other sites without permission from the author.

Chapter1

Valia Traxis examined the edge of the blade of the good old-fashioned cleaver. She'd just sharpened it, so she knew it was keen. Perhaps she wanted to point out the fact that she held a potentially dangerous object in her hand to the large, meaty and unfortunately fellow human leaning on the other side of the counter, closely watching her. Anything to make him go away, without resorting to violence.

"Let the droid do that, sweet cheeks, and sit down with me for a while."

She bit down on a spurt of rage. Rage at being called 'sweet cheeks' by the rat-faced man, and at being told what to do with her time. It echoed a restaurant owner friend's words to her that very morning, about delegating such low-tech 'grunt work' to the machinery.

Not when it was so satisfying, as it was right now. Not when she knew she could do a better job than one of her small droids, and not when she owned this exotic fruit and juice bar and called the shots.

Thock! The blade severed the stem end of a long dark purple melon from Ord Mantell.

"I enjoy cutting them myself." She threw him a quick pointed glance, then looked back down at her work. "I'm very busy right now and I don't have time to while away with you now." Or ever.

"You had time last week," the obnoxious man said in what he probably hoped was a sweetly convincing tone. Valia cursed herself for ever having spent part of an evening with him at that antigravity dance club. What in the Core Worlds had she been thinking? One date and he thought he owned her. He'd been charming enough at first, but this possessiveness was taking on a sinister tone lately. The more she'd put him off in the week since that evening, the more tough or cold she tried to act, the more it seemed to turn him on. She'd been hit on so many times and rebuffed so many men like this in the ten years she'd lived in Galactic City that it was second nature to her to come up with ways to defend and escape. It seriously bothered her that she was now unable to safely turn this one away.

Whock! She swung the cleaver with unnecessary force. The blossom end of the melon went flying. Purple juice flew. The blade sank satisfyingly into the semi-resistant surface of the cutting board. The split in it healed itself as soon as she withdrew the blade from it. The man leered at her, apparently finding stimulation in her display of carving. "I love watching you work, " he said his gaze lingering on her breasts. " I like knives, too. I've got a personal collection from all over the galaxy I could show you sometime," he bragged.

Valia looked at the fruit she was preparing and noticed its resemblance to the male human sexual appendage. Fervently wishing it was the one belonging to the man in front of her, she savagely split the melon lengthwise. Whop!

He'd picked his time well to bother her. He'd waited until the early afternoon crowd had dwindled to nearly nothing and he'd seen her alone at the semi-outdoor bar. All her University friends weren't here now. Drre was busy back in the walk-in cooler. She glanced around at the outdoor tables scattered near the storefront on the stone-paved plaza. One other customer to the right, his back to her, and two men in nondescript tan and brown to the left at the table near the tree in a large circular planter. For all appearances, this might be a friendly encounter between proprietress and customer and nothing was wrong. The man was going on. "You owe me at least another night out, sweetheart." His emphasis was on the words 'at least'.

Valia poked the tip of her knife into the cutting surface and clenched the handle. "I owe you nothing." She was bewildered at his line of thinking. "We had a little drink, a little dance, it was nothing more."

"Nothing more?" he sneered. "The way you were wagging it in my face, I think it was a whole lot more. Quit playing hard to get, pretty little girl and be straight with me. I want you, you want me. Why are you putting off the inevitable?"

Because that will be when Hutts fly, thought Valia, her eyes blazing. He actually reached out to stroke her cheek. She jerked her head back, breath hissing through her nostrils. She nearly took a swipe at him with her knife, but controlled her hands. That was the type of thing that happened in lower parts of the City or in an alcohol or stimulant bar, she thought in dismay. Not here. Maybe he wants me to hurt him. Maybe he gets turned on by pain. Maybe he wants my store and this is how he's planning to make me lose it. She continued to work, trying to maintain outward calm, removing the bitter, thorny projections from the melon she knew the kitchen droid would miss half of. Logic, sarcasm, attitude, and ignoring him had not worked to get rid of him. She thought of the blaster mounted on the wall in the back of the store. She thought of the commlink in her pocket that would connect her to the police. Her would-be lover had done nothing to warrant using either. Even if he left her alone now, he might find her later...

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn glanced over at the counter yet again. His padawan Obi -Wan Kenobi followed his master's eyes, breaking off his conversation. The diminutive young woman working behind the counter was really giving the business to something with a cleaver. Her pale ash-blonde thick braid swung as she brought it down. Her face was calm. Almost. Her eyes looked as though she could do murder. He'd heard snatches of low conversation from here and it was clear she wanted the persistent man leaning in front of her to be gone. Obi-Wan wondered if he was criminally stupid, harassing a woman wielding a knife like that or just supremely confident she'd never hurt him.

"Forgive me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, swinging his attention back to his apprentice. "What were you saying?" They were both becoming distracted by the discordant encounter. They could almost feel more than they could hear it.

"What did the Council decide to do about the genocide rumors on Concord Dawn?"

Qui-Gon answered him, while keeping a surreptitious ear toward the bar. He wouldn't be disrespectful to his young student again by letting his eyes wander. He could picture the woman in his mind. They'd noticed her on each of the previous visits to the fruit bar. She appeared to be in charge of the place. She moved with a quiet efficiency, but was quick with a good-natured musical laugh with the other employees and nearly every customer. He'd given her a cursory appraisal from a distance. Cute was the word that had come to his mind. She was small and trim. She wore practical, simple clothing, none of the elaborate flowing gowns most Coruscanti women wore these days. Juices in a rainbow of colors spattered a white apron, which concealed most of the front of her. Her hair was almost a white-blonde, and sensibly pulled back and up. Fine cheekbones and jawline. Upper lip thin and chiseled above a full lower one. Small, aristocratic nose. All this noted and filed dispassionately. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had already traveled enough in their few years together to have seen a jadingly huge number of beautiful women, human and otherwise. The two of them had been approached with offers by royalty and courtesans, propositioned by prostitutes and seen a galaxy of everything in between. These were not temptations to distract a Jedi, but simply a part of the colorful mosaic of real life Qui-Gon hoped to teach his padawan about.

"I told you already, I'm all out of those! They've had a fungus outbreak on Alderaan and the crop was ruined. There won't be any neowallams until next season." The conversation at the counter intruded again.

"Well, that may be," said the man greasily. "But I'm looking at something a whole lot tastier right now anyway."

Whock! Purple droplets spattered. "For once and for all, please just go away, Yersinn. I told you I don't want to see you ever again."

There was a pause, followed by a lengthy soft reply from the rat-faced man that was laced with enough half-heard painfully descriptive obscenities to make both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan gape at each other and then up toward the counter. The woman had stopped her angry chopping and was staring at the man, her face a study in shocked intimidation.

Qui-Gon met Obi-Wan's eyes across the table and gestured toward the counter with his head. They both silently left their chairs and slipped to the bar. Obi-Wan casually sidled to the counter at the man's immediate right and leaned his elbow on it. Yersinn's head jerked in annoyance as he caught sight of the young man choosing this spot over the entire length of the bar to stand. Obi-Wan bobbed his eyebrows and head in a friendly casual greeting. Qui-Gon loomed silently, yet unnoticed to his left.

"She really is all out of neowallams. We asked earlier. We just got back from Alderaan, as a matter of fact," Obi-Wan fibbed easily. "Terrible. Just terrible." He wore an expression of blithe friendliness on his smooth face, but his eyes were sharp.

"What would you know about it?" Yersinn's voice had gone from oil to sludge. "Beat it, kid," he said dismissively, staying planted at the counter. He suddenly sensed another presence, and turned belligerently, fists already clenching and starting to swing at any more obnoxious intrusions on his courting. The other man he saw had only a handful of centimeters height advantage on him, but there was just enough of an angry glower in Qui-Gon's return stare to put a sudden chill in the pit of his stomach and make him take stock of this new situation. His hands and forearms suddenly went numb. He turned back to the young man who was still leaning next to him, a bland look on his face. Obi-Wan shifted his stance slowly, just so the hilt of the lightsaber hanging at his waist was revealed. Jedi. The chill turned into a deep freeze.

Qui-Gon nodded almost imperceptibly at Obi-Wan over Yersinn's head.

"This place has nothing you need or want. You'd do well to never come here again." Obi-Wan drifted a hand across the space between himself and Yersinn, speaking in the smooth modulated tones as taught to him by his master. "You'll leave her alone." Yersinn stared back at him, slack-jawed. He pushed himself away from the counter and moved off across the plaza, rubbing his hands, without a backward look. Obi-Wan glanced at his master for approval. Qui-Gon nodded.

Valia had watched the entire incident a half-meter from her with a death-grip on the handle of her knife and the commlink clutched in the other. She exhaled and let go slowly, laying both down on the counter. So they were Jedi. She'd suspected from their dress; master and apprentice, apparently. She recalled seeing these two here before. She saw quite a number of Jedi at her business, as the Temple was an easy walk north of here. She knew people who were openly afraid of them, and she couldn't understand why. She liked them as customers. They were unfailingly polite, they paid their tabs, and didn't trash the tables. What was there to be afraid of? Yet she'd never seen anything quite like this. There was no denying the mystique and powerful aura that surrounded them. But they were supposedly, from all she'd heard since childhood, on the side of justice and good. They'd just been blessed with keys to the all-pervasive "Force", unlike most other creatures. Being near them was no big deal.

No big deal...her musing echoed as her eyes went from the younger to the older man, then traveled slowly up his big frame to his face. He was so...large. She inexplicably thought of violet-blue seas of water and long green grass. She was suddenly reminded of a king in a long-forgotten childhood fairy tale as she took in his noble features and long hair. Brown, just beginning to be streaked with silver. A little more frost in his beard. She imagined some ancient ancestor of his standing on the deck of a ship, the kind of ship that sailed on the watery surfaces of other far-off worlds, that hair flying, those broad shoulders carving the wind...

Now where had she come up with that? A minute ago she was being verbally harassed, and the next she was fancifully daydreaming. The Jedi warrior/ king/sailor spoke.

"Did he threaten you?" he asked her. His voice was deep and soft, tinged with an unidentifiable accent.

"You could say that," Valia shot back, her eyes having dropped back down to her pile of purple melons. Was he joking? No, there had been no joke within light-years of that stern face. "Please, don't make me repeat what he said." She wondered how it was possible to feel so violated by mere words and ideas.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, turned his head and held up his hands, palms out toward her in a gesture that said 'I wouldn't dream of it'. "We heard enough to get the idea," Obi-Wan added.

"Does he know where you live?" came the next query from the older, taller man.

"I...I never...he probably...he isn't my...no, I don't think so." She hadn't been insane enough to give that information away. Unless he'd followed her before. She hoped not. Why was she having trouble answering this man's questions? She'd done nothing wrong, but his unspoken demand for the complete truth was making her feel put on the spot.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked this question more softly still, in a voice that felt to Valia like a soothing brush of silk.

"No, no..."

Well...on second thought, yes. But not so anyone could see. But she got the distinct impression that this man could and did see. That penetrating gaze seemed to go right through her. She nervously looked up at him again.

Blue, she thought numbly. His eyes are blue. They were so deep-set and shadowed she'd never really seen them until now. Until he was standing right in front of her. She looked into them just long enough to take note of the fine creases fanning out from them, and the concerned smile in them, then dropped her own. All through this conversation Valia had sensed a strange...closing in of their presences. They were much closer to her now than on the other side of the counter. They were in her head! She had the eerie sensation of her mind being explored, politely, but explored nonetheless by the master and to a lesser extent, the younger student. She felt a curious questing from them. It should have been creepy, but...it wasn't. A blanket-like peace enveloped her. No one was going to hurt her now. The message was almost as clear as if it were spoken aloud. She felt and obeyed a sudden urge to look straight into those blue eyes of the Jedi master. It was as if one gentle finger had lifted her chin. He was looking into her eyes piercingly but kindly. His was a face that looked as though it could say more with a twitch of a finely sculpted brow than one of the blow-hards in the Senate could speak in an hour. She had time to study the masculine bone structure under the skin. His virility was as thick and potent as a fruit syrup. This, combined with the sexual overtones of the incident which had brought him here in the first place, was downright unsettling. She was held this way for perhaps four seconds when she decided it was best after all to assert herself. This was a little too intense. Don't play with my head, she thought firmly at him. Abruptly her mind was her sole territory again. She was left with a strangely bereft feeling. The tall Jedi then did indeed twitch one brow, and gave her an 'as you wish' sort of nod. He looked as if he would turn to go.

Manners! What a revolutionary concept. "Wait! Thank you," she said, addressing them both. "I really appreciate what you did." She had no idea what sort of important things they must spent their lives doing, and they'd been kind enough to help her. They both bowed to her. Valia was bemused at the idea of these two mystical men bowing to her, especially the tall, lordly one. She smiled, some self-confidence returning.

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he introduced them. She nodded, memorizing the names and faces as she would do with any of her customers.

"Valia Traxis. Please, let me cover your tab."

"That isn't necessary," said Qui-Gon.

"No really, it's all right. I want to, " she said, piling the pieces of fruit she'd already cut up into a bowl. She needed to be doing something, be busy, move normally.

"Isn't that bad for business, too much of that?" Obi-Wan asked her. Valia grinned at him. He was much easier to look directly at. She liked him immediately. She'd have bet every piece of her cutlery that he had a few birthdays to go before his twentieth. His face was face was smooth and boyishly cute, his eyes inquisitive and green. His hair was cropped fuzzily short. A thin braid trailed from behind his right ear and just brushed his shoulder. So young, not much more than a boy. She sensed a great, calm power in him already. What did that say about the power of his master, the man?

"Too much, yes. There are plenty of other things that are bad for my business, such as the terrible fungus outbreak you witnessed on Alderaan," she winked at him. "But this isn't one of them." She rinsed off the cutting board and knife and placed them under the sanitizing scanner. "I don't think my bottom line today will suffer."

"Do you own this place, Miss Traxis?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yes, I do," she said proudly. She removed the cutting board and leaned it against the splashboard on the back counter. "Just call me Lia," she said, flapping one hand casually as she carefully took the knife from under the scanner with the other.

"Lia..." The sound of her nickname being tried by the big soft-spoken man was like a caress of thick velvet. Valia had never heard it sound anything like that in her life. Stupefied all over again, she nearly dropped the knife on the floor, or into her foot. She was sure he hadn't intended it to sound as intimate as it had sounded to her own ears. He just had a nice voice, that was all. That had to be it. What was with her? After everything that had happened in the last few minutes, she needed to go sit in the walk-in cooler for a while. A slow drag on her water pipe would be good, too.

Qui-Gon Jinn regarded her, startled to find himself assessing her in ways he normally didn't when meeting someone. 'Cute' had been way off the mark. She was beautiful up close. Maybe thirty years old. Hard to tell. There was a guilelessness about her that suggested she had no idea how beautiful she was, and didn't give too much thought to her appearance. As though she had the good sense to leave well enough alone. She was fresh and unpretentious, a rarity on Coruscant. He'd studied her hands after they'd sent her abuser on his way. They were long and strong looking. A nail or two was chipped, and they had been stained purple, but the skin looked soft. While Obi-Wan had kept a wary eye on her cleaver, he'd been staring fascinatedly at the sinews in the backs of her hands. He'd positively itched to reach out and cover one of them with his own, only in a gesture of comfort. It was just something he did with people, just the way he was. But instinct had warned him away from doing so. She would not have appreciated his touching her. Then she had lifted her head to look at him, revealing an arresting pair of dark gray eyes. Interest flared. They were breathtaking. She'd looked away, and he'd known a wildly irrational, selfish desire to see them again. Curiosity and need to determine whether she was really as all right as she wanted him to believe drove him to bid the gentle command: _Look at me. _ Her eyes were tipped upward at the outer corners, almost slanted. The irises were slightly darker at the outer edges. Dusky lashes circled them. He looked beneath the surface features. Her life-force was brilliant, vivid. But there were remnants of pain, sick fear and humiliation. For the second time, he had to quell the same dangerous fury. He would never get over the senselessness of abuse of any kind. But what really disturbed him was the personal way he was responding to this trivial incident. He was astonished at the surge of protectiveness she was rousing in him. But her life was not his affair. He and Obi-Wan had simply been in the right place at the right time to help her. Then her nostrils had flared and something strong and imperious in her eyes had flashed at him, reminding him that he too had overstepped his bounds, if only slightly. This was no young girl. No trampled flower. She'd be just fine; he'd thought and released her, a little sadly. He felt mildly disoriented, as though he'd spent several days in her eyes instead of several seconds.

When they finished at the counter and turned to go, Qui-Gon was convinced that this encounter would be forgotten by this time tomorrow.

Or maybe not. He was unable to pin down the vague sensation that something deep inside him was not the same as it had been before. An odd tugging pulled at him as they walked away from the fruit bar. He turned to look back. The woman called Lia was looking back at him, this time with more warmth. She was saying something to her now returned staff member. Then, predictably, she glanced downward.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Valia carried the syrup module out of the small walk-in cooler in the back of the store and brought it to the front counter. She discarded the empty one from the dispenser and plugged in the new one. Maybe now she could get to that accounting work. Several customers moved away from the bar, leaving a gap through which she could see the outside tables. Then she saw him. There he was, taking a seat at the same table as three days before. She stared at him from under the sheltering roofed area behind the bar. Same nondescript tan and brown clothing as before, only this time he was enveloped in a dark, almost black cloak. Jinn, he'd said his name was. Qui-Gon. He absently picked up a fallen tree blossom from the table in front of him, closely examined it and flicked it aside. Oh, that tree, she thought disgustedly as she watched him pick up another and toss it. She really did feel fortunate to have it in front of her store and couldn't bear the thought of having the city remove it. There were precious few trees on Coruscant as it was. It was a reminder that seasons and nature did exist on the city-planet. But it made such a blasted mess every spring when it bloomed and dropped the pink tubular flowers all over the ground and her tables. How many times had she thought of calling her brother or one of her cousins about it? They probably knew of a way to treat it so it wouldn't be harmed, just not drop the flowers. At least in autumn the fallen leaves blew away and didn't stick like great pink slugs. Moving through the gap in the counter she gave a quick hand signal to the hovering utility droid. It obediently followed her as she headed in the Jedi's direction.

"Sorry about the mess," she said to him, picking up a flower from the ground. She held it in front of the droid's blank black eye. "Pick these up. From the tables, seats, and ground." She eyed it for a few seconds, making sure it did exactly as she asked. The last time, it had begun to pick them directly off the tree.

"Or I can get someone to move the table over," she offered quickly as she watched a blossom fall on his head, bounce off his nose and drop to the table in front of him.

"No, don't bother, that's quite all right," Qui-Gon said.

A waitress approached and took his order. Listening, Valia helped pick up flowers off the seats of the next table and took note of it. She liked to know what her regular customers ordered. She caught herself wondering if that's what he would be.

"Has your foul-mouthed friend stayed away from you?"

Valia stopped peeling flowers from the table surface and turned to him. "Ha! He was no friend of mine, that's for sure." She walked to the planter from which the tree grew and tossed the flowers over the short wall. "No, I haven't seen him since." She narrowed one dark eye and gave him a smiling, mock suspicious look. "You didn't go off afterwards and kill him, did you?"

Qui-Gon Jinn slowly leaned forward on his elbows. He looked to either side conspiratorially, then back at her. "Would you like me to?"

Valia's eyes widened. He had to be teasing her back. As appealing as the idea was, she herself had just been kidding. Wasn't he? There was just enough seriousness in his voice and face to make her wonder.

"I didn't mean...you're not supposed to...I don't...No!"

Amused, Qui-Gon smiled serenely and leaned back in his chair. He realized he probably shouldn't tease her, but sometimes it was a blunt way of taking measure of a person. And she seemed like a person who could give as good as she got.

"Can you sit down for a minute?"

Valia stared at him with what must have been a stunned 'who, me?' look on her face. Just like that, he was asking her to sit with him. She really needed to get to those accounts, boring as the work would be. She should blow him off, her normal course of action for an attentive male customer. But there was something so intriguing and dashing about him. Even if he did seem to turn her into a blathering idiot. Besides, she owned the place. She could do this. She sat with customers all the time. He didn't look quite as overwhelming when sitting. And he had been kind to her. She paused, trying to feel any peculiar tuggings or strong suggestions in her mind. There were none. But then would she be aware if he was using the Force on her?

Qui-Gon saw her suspicious hesitation and waited patiently, amused again. He'd vowed to himself he would not bend her will in any way if he encountered her again.

"That is, only if you want to. If you have time."

Valia paused another second, then approached his table. She pulled out the chair on the other side of it, feeling somehow more at ease with something solid between them. She casually sat, her back to the tree so she could keep an eye on the storefront and eating area. This was no big deal. She could do this, and without feeling like a skittish little girl. She jumped when a flower landed in front of her on the table.

"Is this your only store, or do you have others?"

"Right now, this is the only one. But I'm hoping to open another one sometime in the next year. It all depends on finding a good location. I'd prefer it to have access to the outside, like this one. This one has done very well." And so it had. The area was bustling with humans and several other species. Valia Traxis had tried to re-introduce a little nature back into the artificiality of Coruscanti life. Fruits, juices, extracts and preserves were imported from all over the galaxy and offered here, tastes of home for transplanted city dwellers. Her store was a colorful little oasis in a world of hard gray. Her customers seemed to truly enjoy the rustic, natural feel of this tiny corner of the plaza. She was offering them a part of herself, and making a successful livelihood of it. Qui-Gon sensed everything from the chairs designed with comfortable organic curves to the textured fabric swooping in loops from the overhang had been thoughtfully selected by her. Where an ordinary plastic bin would have served, she'd used woven baskets. She insisted on garnishes in all the fruit dishes and most of the drinks. There was an atmosphere of warmth and generosity that came from this place. From her.

She glanced over to a table full of noisy, juice-guzzling University students. A rakish dark-haired young man was doing a handstand. She smiled and looked fondly at them, shaking her head at the young man's foolery. She was wearing black trousers and short boots. A simple, loose, white, open-throated blouse completed her outfit. Her sleeves were rolled up to escape the ever-present fruit juice behind the bar. She'd removed her apron which had been stained with a watercolor of juices before coming out to the tables. The unfeminine attire only accented her all too feminine hips and legs. Her hair was artlessly bound up in a loose knot at the crown of her head. Several pale tendrils had escaped, one of which brushed the smooth skin below her collarbone. She kept absently pushing it back over her shoulder. Qui-Gon knew a nearly insane urge to touch it, to caress her. Even stronger than three days ago. Not less, as he had hoped. He hadn't touched a woman in any way more familiar than a handshake in over ten years, and suddenly that was all he wanted to do. He folded his arms inside the sleeves of his robe as if they needed more than his will to keep them obedient. Three days and nights of wondering if she was unharmed, wondering if those eyes were as beautiful as he'd thought they were, and a deep aggravation with himself for thinking so had finally driven him to walk over here. An apparent whim of fate had brought her straight to his table. He found himself wondering what she'd look like just out of bed in the morning, all tousled and silky. Wearing nothing but a smile. Appalled at the direction of his thoughts, he forced himself to listen to her, his face never betraying what was on his mind. This was a monumental personal distraction he did not need. Not ever, but especially not now. Obi-Wan was reaching critical junctures in his life and training, and he needed his full attention right now. And he was a Jedi Knight, a Master. His behavior was supposed to be above reproach. What was he doing? Qui-Gon Jinn paused to consider the question. It wasn't a question he ever asked himself. He wasn't sure he could produce an answer for it. He just did what he did. He sighed inwardly and resolved to somehow find the strength to banish this strange new preoccupation. In the mean time, he supposed it couldn't hurt to be friends with this Lia Traxis. She thought she appeared at ease in the chair across from him. One arm was loosely draped across the back, but he still sensed a tenseness in the way she sat, as though she needed to be on alert to run away. What was it about him that made her nervous, and what could he do to help her not feel that way? Her fingers had idly shredded the flower that had dropped on the table while talking to him.

"If you've been here only ten years, then you must not be a native Coruscanti."

"No, I'm originally from Nyme'. Most of my family is still there. But this is home for me."

Now he remembered where he'd heard the name Traxis before. A large, ancient and clannish family, they owned and operated extensive orchards and fruit-growing collectives on that Mid-Rim world. She told him about the planet, her family and their land, but he picked up indications that she wished to turn her back on her homeworld for some reason.

Valia found herself slowly growing more relaxed talking with Qui-Gon. He was finally asking her questions she could easily answer. Try as she might, she could detect no ulterior motive in his wanting to speak to her. He seemed to be content just passing the time in an idle chat, maintaining a polite eye contact. Still, she noted the way his blue eyes flicked interestedly over her during several points in the conversation. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or alarmed at the sight of a normal male reflex in him. She couldn't quite think of him as ordinary. He seemed indefinably so much more than that.

By the time Qui-Gon's juice glass was empty, Valia realized she had done most of the talking, and she hardly knew any more about him than three days ago. How had that happened? With some chagrin, she pulled herself away from the table and vowed to herself the next time she saw him she would learn more about him. Would there be a next time? As he rose from his chair, she noticed one of the obnoxious pink flowers had caught on the hood of his robe. Common sense told her he probably wouldn't want to walk around with that. "Uh, Master Jinn, you've got..." she pointed to his upper back, then realized it would just be easier to pick it off herself. She cautiously reached up around him and plucked it from the fabric. She stepped back, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy. What was wrong with her? She wasn't bothered by physically big men, but she was acutely aware of this peculiar larger than life aura surrounding him. She forced herself to look up at him. He really had the kindest smile. It was squeezing the outer corners of his eyes into crinkles. He gave her another one of those courtly bows, thanked her for the pleasure of her company, and was off with a swirl of dark robe. She watched his long, rolling stride take him out of sight, back to the Temple presumably. She stood lost in thought near the table several seconds after he'd disappeared.

"Hobnobbing with Jedi Knights now, are we?"

Valia turned to the wickedly handsome student who'd been doing the handstand earlier.

"Peel it and stuff it, Ravi," Valia said sweetly, walking back to the counter. "It's not like they don't come here almost every day."

"You don't sit down at tables with them every day."

She wadded up the flower she'd picked off Qui-Gon and pelted it at him.

"Hey!" he protested as it struck him wetly on his ear.

Ravi Brillion was one of her best friends and one of the first she'd made upon her arrival to Coruscant. Several years younger than her, he was a perpetual student of various performing arts or whatever happened to catch his interest. He was constantly in the middle of dreaming up and writing plays in the hopes they'd one day be wildly successful. An expert dancer, he often partnered Valia in the many dance clubs they frequented around the City. He'd also introduced her to the sport of building-climbing and para-gliding. He filled the role of adventurous younger brother and, at times, son in Valia's life. But every time she felt the relationship was a little too one-sided, such as when she was rescuing him from some drunken adventure or one of his passionate political protests, he'd do something to come through for her. Most of the time he simply kept the laughter in her life. It was an odd but enduring relationship.

Valia sensed Ravi was going to be a complete pest about seeing her talking with the Jedi Master, so she decided to fill him in. "This one did me a little favor the other day," she said returning behind the counter.

Ravi theatrically jerked his head back in surprise. Then he leaned forward on the counter expectantly. "Ooh, do tell..."

So she told him and the rest of the group of friends clustered at the counter what had happened three days before. When she finished, they all erupted at once.

"I'd have kicked this guy's ass to Tatooine and back..."

"Lia, why didn't you say anything..."

"I'd have dragged him to a dream shop and made them wire him so he'd have everything he said to you done to himself..."

"What the hell do you mean they just 'suggested'..."

"Didn't they even use their lightsabers?"

"They should have sliced off his--"

Valia was laughing at their belated macho protectiveness. "No, no, they never used their lightsabers. Except maybe to let him see they had them." They all turned into little boys when it came to the subject of Jedi Knights and lightsabers. Even though it was impossible to become one unless one was born with a high midichlorian count and chosen by the Order, children and young people everywhere dreamed on. They had their own ideas for how to employ the classic Jedi weapons, as well. It was fortunate they'd never get their hands on them.

"I'd have made this loser dance if I had a lightsaber." Paccaia was skilled with metal swords and bars, and was making thrusts and swipes in the air with an imaginary weapon.

"Yeah, the real story isn't very exciting." This from Bracca.

"Well, excuse me for sticking to the facts," Valia laughed. But then, I really didn't tell you the exciting part, which I still don't quite understand myself, she mused. She pulled datapads and cards out of a cubbyhole in the back wall of the store. Ravi was already satirizing the event which he'd been nowhere near to witness.

"Oh, Padawan-boy," he intoned in a comically deep, stern voice. He stared down his nose at an imaginary offensive object on the ground. "Remove this piece of dung from the lady's sight." He waved imperiously with his hand. Valia snorted and rolled her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Qui-Gon's broad back reminded Valia of a wall as she picked up a tray for another table. He was sitting at the same table as before with his back toward the noisiest part of the storefront, facing the tree. She hesitated, wondering if he wanted to be left alone. But he could do that countless other places besides here, couldn't he? Sooner or later he would want someone to wait on him if he was here. Drre made a move to go to his table, and that decided her. She stopped her with a raised hand. "I'll get it," she said. Her staff member raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It was quite normal for the owner to wait tables and work the counter like the rest of the staff. It was unusual for her to single out a certain customer. She moved away to another table. Valia paused again. Had this been anyone else, she would have already been over there with an enthusiastic "Hey, Qui-Gon! How's it hanging? What's up at the Temple? What are those fat bastards in the Senate up to today?" Somehow this just wasn't going to happen. Not with him. Well, if she was ever going to get over this shyness and be somewhat comfortable with him as a regular customer, she should just walk over there now. Taking the tray with her, she decided she'd just see what he wanted on her way to the other table.

Valia circled around him and saw that his eyes were closed and his hands were folded neatly in his lap. What was he doing, napping? She tilted her head and curiously studied his calm face, leaning closer. It wasn't classically handsome like the young faces of Ravi, Paccaia and Bracca. But it was compellingly attractive to her, and growing more so every time she saw him. A few loose strands of his long hair had escaped the section tied back above his ears. They floated in the breeze. She wondered what his hair felt like, if it was soft. His nose was fascinating. It had to have been broken, probably long ago. There was surely some interesting history in that face. She wondered if she would ever know it. She also felt like an unbelievable snoop, staring at him like this. On that thought, he suddenly sighed and snapped open his eyes. They were already focused on her. Startled, Valia gasped and took a jerky step backwards, jostling and spilling everything on the tray she held. Green juice spouted over the edge and splattered on the stone. She shut her eyes in an embarrassed grimace. Immediately his hand was on her arm.

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time. Valia's eyes flew open. The hand that was cradling her arm was rock solid and steadying. It also felt as though every single molecule of her had suddenly been magnetized and was pulling in the direction of his touch. Even through the fabric of her sleeve she could feel the sparkling warmth of it. Unable to keep her eyes on his any longer, she dropped her gaze.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"Well now, I could easily say the same to you," he answered gently. He seemed to remember he was touching her and quickly withdrew his hand. That had been a purely reflexive move, to reach out to her.

"Were you asleep?" Valia asked, setting juice-soaked objects upright on the tray.

"No, meditating."

Oh great, she thought. I've intruded on some sacred Jedi ritual. But didn't he have a whole temple full of places to do that? She gestured back toward the tables full of noisy customers and tourists. "In the middle of all this?"

He shrugged. "One finds many ways to tune out harmless background distractions."

Every distraction imaginable except you, Qui-Gon thought, wondering how it was she looked more disarmingly lovely every time he saw her. No, I haven't figured out how to tune you out yet, and I'm not sure I really want to.

Once again, he'd been driven or drawn over here, he wasn't sure which. He had not managed to crush out that spark of interest in this woman. During the past week he had been so uncharacteristically snappish and irritable he'd nearly sought out a temple healer to make sure there was nothing physically wrong with him. But he had an idea what the problem was, and it had something to do with a pair of haunting gray eyes. Obi-Wan was avoiding him, and he was sure his name was being whispered in the stone hallways and chambers of the temple. The first he needed to remedy, but the second he could do nothing about, and really could not care less.

Yesterday he had called for a gladiator droid, hoping to release some of this tension. A quarter of an hour later, when it was all over, and the four-meter tall opponent was reduced to scattered, charred sections of smoking machinery, he'd felt marginally better. Scowling and sweating in the middle of the hazy chamber full of wreckage, he'd absently noted he'd even taken a couple of chunks out of the walls. Bad form. But as he deeply inhaled the stench of ozone and cauterized machinery, trying to find his center of focus and calm, he knew this was not a solution. There were those in the temple who would have instantly seen this was not a heavy lightsaber workout, this was an inner battle. Well, right now he didn't give a womp-rat's ass who saw or what they thought. Not wanting anyone to ask him what was troubling him, he'd quickly stalked out of the room. Why her? Why now? This was something he should be counseling young Obi-Wan through, not wrestling with himself. He'd deal with this, one way or another.

One of those ways appeared to be to simply let go and just be here, where she was. Personal distraction or not, it seemed the only way to keep some measure of peace within himself. He could tell himself he was here to protect her and make sure she wasn't being harassed. But that would probably be a lie. Even that excuse grew flimsier every minute he saw that she wasn't. He was here because he wanted to be. And he was thirsty. Shouldn't that be reason enough? Listening to his instincts had served him well in the past. Right now they were telling him to sit here, patiently wait the situation out, and observe. Observe, he snorted inwardly. Oh, yes indeed. Today the lovely Miss Traxis was wearing a sky-blue duster over a midriff-baring outfit of the same soft material. Her hair was softly twisted away from her face above each ear and trailed down her back in a long thick rope. She stood there holding the sopping tray looking at him apologetically with those eyes. He desperately wanted her to be at ease, just be herself around him. He wanted to be near the living heat and light that were her life-force. He was also dangerously close to wanting her, if he hadn't already crossed that Jedi-forbidden line.

Valia glanced down at the puddle of spilled juice on the stone pavers and noticed droplets of it on his tall boots. Horrified beyond what she normally would have been at such a thing, she launched into fresh apologies. "Master Jinn, I'm so sorry, but I think I got some of this on you. Let me just go get--"

"Don't worry yourself about it." He waved a hand dismissively.

"But it's on your--"

"_Lia_."

There it was again. That head-swimming rush she felt when he said her name like that. Something inside her went all warm and drippy. She shook her head to clear it.

"Believe me, this is hardly the worst thing that has gotten splashed on these boots." He leaned back in his chair almost indolently, but sharply focused his mind on calming her. "Let's see, in the times I've been here, I've had flowers dropped on me and now been blessed with a sprinkle of fruit juice. I think that makes the situation casual enough for you to just call me Qui-Gon."

Valia stared at him, transfixed by his eyes. She was vaguely aware of a hypnotic, song-like humming in her head. A nearly euphoric peace settled over her. This was such a trifling thing, he really didn't mind. She'd done nothing wrong. Everything was fine. Was he messing with her head again? She decided she didn't care, even if he was. She smiled and sighed.

"All right...Qui-Gon. I came over here to see if there was anything you wanted. Can I get anything for you?"

"Do you have any of that Cerean juice?"

Valia grimaced and closed her eyes again. "I'm all out of that." This was really going well.

"More fungus problems?" Qui-Gon quipped, smiling up at her.

Valia laughed. "No, no. I'm just out of the syrup base and it won't be in until tomorrow."

She thoughtfully rubbed her chin and quickly tried to think of something similar that might please him. "I've got a few experimental recipes I've been working with. If you'd like, I can mix up something for you."

Qui-Gon considered this. Normally he detested being fussed over in any way. He wasn't sure how he felt about her being the one to do it.

"What, don't you trust me?" she teased when he didn't answer right away. She had one hand jauntily on a gracefully curved hip. Now that was an interesting question, he thought. He covertly eyed the bare skin above her stomach. It looked silky soft, over the flat muscles.

"You don't have anything poisonous back there, do you?" he teased back.

"Just the Ithorian Lida tree sap. But I promise not to use any of that."

"Well then," he said. "I leave myself in your capable hands."

Before Valia could think too much about that statement, she began moving away. "Just let me take care of this mess, and I'll be right back," she said, holding out a hand as if to keep him from leaving. Qui-Gon simply nodded complacently and closed his eyes again.

She shoved her way through the crowd back to the counter. Drre was the first server she saw. "Please fix this order, Drre and run it out to table 11. A little accident." She really didn't want to go into an explanation of what had happened. She was already thinking up a concoction of juices and extracts, mixing in her head as she reached into refrigerated bins and units for what she needed. He wouldn't want anything too sweet. Or too flowery. She mixed syrups and juices in a pitcher, accurately estimating amounts. She thought of the taste of the Cerean juice and drew from the extensive palette of remembered flavors and essences stored in her memory. She entered the recipe into a keypad, in case he really liked it. Or hated it. She diluted it down and took a hurried taste with a spoon. She approved. It tasted just like she'd imagined.

"Hey Lia, you got the izziwip syrup down there?" Chuluk shouted from his station down at the other end of the bar.

"Coming at ya!" she yelled back and sent the dispenser down to him in a graceful underhanded throw. He caught it with practiced ease and shot a stream of it into the drink he was mixing. Tightly covering her pitcher, she placed it with a glass and a hand towel on a tray.

"I will not spill this, I will not spill this..." she muttered softly to herself like a prayer the whole time. Holding the tray over her head, she elbowed her way back out toward the tree. She saw a familiar face.

"Hey, loser!" She happily pulled and snapped the harness strap against the back of a monstrous freighter pilot. "When did you hit town?"

The man turned around. He was drinking large tumbler of something that looked like blood. A smile split his face as he looked down. "About an hour ago."

"You took a whole hour to get your butt over here and see me?" Valia gave him a mock glare, hand on her hip.

"Traffic was bad."

"When is traffic not bad around here?"

"How's my favorite little fruit-squishing farm girl?" He wrapped her head and shoulders in a one-armed hug until she squawked.

"Watch who you're calling 'farm girl'!"

"Or what? You'll take a pitchfork to me? Or prune me?"

"Oooh, don't give me any ideas, especially about what to prune..."

He laughed and she grinned as she moved away from her friend. "I'll talk to you in a few minutes," she threw over her shoulder. She gave quick greetings to several more friends on her way back to Qui-Gon.

The odd sensation of time itself slowing down struck her as she reentered the pool of tranquility surrounding the Jedi Master under the tree. She carefully set the pitcher and glass down on the table in case he was at his meditating again. He opened his eyes.

"All right," she said as she poured. "Try this."

She waited expectantly as he took a drink from the glass. She breathed again when she saw a positive reaction.

"This is wonderful," he said. "What's in it?"

"Ha! I thought you trusted me."

"Oh, I do. I just want to know what to ask for the next time I come here thirsty."

She smiled and leaned forward on the back of another chair. "A Traxis secret recipe." She remembered the entry number had been 217 when she had been logging it in. "Just call it 'Poison Number 217'. I'll know what you want." She remembered the towel. "Oh, here's something to wipe off your boots." She handed it to him. Qui-Gon sighed and took it from her. He wiped the already dried and unseen juice from his boots more for her benefit than anything else.

The quick upward stab of sexual desire caught Valia completely off-guard. She nearly reeled from it. Maybe it was the way his long, strong-looking thighs flexed through the material of his trousers. Maybe it was the latent physical power she sensed in his easy posture. Maybe it was the mustache. She had no idea. Probably a whole combination of factors. I wasn't looking for this, she thought. I don't need this. She quickly tried to push the feeling away, the thought of her lips and tongue against his to a far back corner of her mind. Her attraction to him had been growing since the moment she'd met him and now it was spilling over like table 11's ill-fated order. She hadn't felt anything like this in years.

"Thank you," he said, handing the towel back to her. His fingertips brushed hers as she took it. She bit the inside of her bottom lip at his touch. She shifted her feet nervously and squeezed her thighs together. She was aware of a blooming heat and wetness there. Thank the gods she hadn't been any closer to him with that tray, or it would have gone into his lap. And how, pray tell, would she have offered to clean that up?

"And thank you," he said again, raising his glass toward her in a toast-like motion. He took another drink.

"It's not too sweet for you?" she asked. Taste was such a subjective sense.

"No."

"Not too tart?"

"No."

"You aren't picking up any hint of sliminess at all, are you?"

Sliminess? He gave her a long quizzical look from beneath raised eyebrows.

"Because I can add a little more piock juice, it's got astringent properties that would cut that..."

A smile crept into his lips. "No. It's perfect the way it is. Would you like me to fill out a survey form?"

Valia stared at him, holding the towel with both hands. She twisted it so hard her knuckles cracked. She was rambling on and dilly-dallying, and she knew she shouldn't. What she should do is run and hide.

"Or you can sit down a while, if you'd like, and you can discuss your formulation with me."

He was openly inviting her to do what she was thinking, and stay. How she wanted to sink into a chair next to him and listen to that voice some more. Study that mustache. All day long. She shook her head, fighting the vortex pulling her to him, and it wasn't a Force-driven suggestion from him. It was in her. She gestured vaguely with one arm toward the storefront. "I'm..." she trailed off.

"Of course," he nodded. "You're busy." He studied her for a few seconds as she collected the tray and made ready to leave.

"If you don't see me here for some time, it's not that you've mortally offended me. I'm just going off-world for a while."

Why had he been compelled to tell her that? He was answerable to no one for his day-to-day whereabouts. Yet beneath her salt and breezy nonchalance, he sensed in this woman an enormous capacity to wonder and worry about each and every customer that crossed her path. They became her friends, her family. There were huge reservoirs of concern and care in her, and all it would take is some trivial incident or misunderstanding to accidentally tap them. Instinct again.

She shrugged. "I probably might have wondered. Well, not wondered about offending you. About you. Well, not worried about you yourself necessarily, because I'm sure you're quite capable of looking after yourself, but it's just that I...you...oh, never mind." She covered her eyes with a hand and blushed wildly.

Amused and charmed, Qui-Gon pressed his lips together to keep from grinning at her. He considered the novel idea of anyone wondering or worrying about him. With the possible exception of Obi-Wan, he had no one who would.

"Well, gotta run. Enjoy!" she said, and almost literally did, taking herself and her pink cheeks away from the table under the tree. Back to the noise, confusion and fast-moving familiar element she was used to. Back to her friends, the people she knew. He switched chairs so he was now facing the front of Lia's bar. He sat contemplatively, slowly drinking, trying to figure out what she'd put in 'Poison Number 217'. And why she'd suddenly acted so oddly.

Today was the first time she had really, truly smiled directly at him. It reminded him of a binary sunrise he'd seen on some forgotten world. He'd happened to be at a vantage point on the planet where both suns crossed the horizon exactly together. The sudden radiance and warmth was the same.

He observed the crowd of varied customers. He was restless to be gone from Coruscant. He needed action, duty. He needed to find out where that Corellian group of terrorists was getting their chemical weapons. He knew there were those who would say he enjoyed looking for trouble. Trouble, he mused, was subjectively defined, and something that didn't need looking for. It was right here. It was sweet and kind. It moved with an unconscious sensuality. It was beautiful large gray eyes in a heart-shaped face. When he next saw Lia, she was sitting surrounded by a cluster of pilots and freighter crew members, listening to a bawdy story. At least half of the male ones were tossing adoring looks her way. Jealousy never occurred to him. It was completely alien to him. But a longing he couldn't name spiraled deep inside him. She laughed at something the pilot known only as 'loser' said. She was smoking a water pipe, and blowing smoke rings. She closed her eyes as she took a long pull on the mouthpiece. To his annoyance, he found himself becoming sexually aroused by the sight of her. He forced down the physical reaction with a mental command.

She was just fine. She did not need him standing guard over her. He'd use this picture of her, along with his considerably stubborn will to not think of her at all after he walked away from here. He would simply forbid himself to think distracting thoughts of her until he set foot on Coruscant again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I am not awake, Valia told herself. Not again. The minutes went by. She floated in a reluctant haze of half-sleep, wishing she could just slip under again. When she realized her denial was not working, she sighed and opened her eyes. Still dark out. She heard the soft drone of the endless criss-crossing lanes of air taxis, transports, and the occasional freighter outside her open balcony door. This was the quietest traffic ever got in Galactic City, in the predawn hours.

Every night for the past two weeks, she'd unwillingly woken up at the same time. Her sleeplessness was starting to show in the shadows under her eyes. Even Ravi had asked her if she was all right. There was no apparent reason for it, except that she felt tightly strung, hypersensitive to every sound, scent and touch. Especially touch. She was sure she could feel every single thread in the cloth of her bedding. She stretched sensuously. She was sexually aroused. Again. She crossed her arms over her eyes and smiled dreamily. Almost her first thought upon waking was of him. She definitely was going to have to stop this before she saw him again. If he saw what was on her mind... Well, what if he did? No, she didn't want to find out what his reaction would be. The embarrassment would probably kill her. But in the meantime, I may as well enjoy it, she thought. Maybe whatever this was would clear out of her system before he reappeared under the tree outside her store.

Without even touching herself, she knew she was wet, slick, and warm as fire. She let her thoughts wander to fantasies that would probably never happen. Even the idea of a long, lazy, whiskery kiss was enough to make her reach flash point. She closed her eyes and rolled over on her stomach. Her long straight hair tumbled over the side of her face as she sought the perfect spot to apply pressure. She ground her pelvis against the bed. It wasn't anywhere near as satisfying as a warm, solid body of flesh in bed with her, or even a virtual experience, but it was all she had at the moment. She concentrated on the silky sheets sliding against her thighs and breasts, imagining it was skin. His skin. She stretched her legs, luxuriating in the feel of the muscles flexing. In less than a minute, she found her release. She stifled a strangled cry with a mouthful of sheet.

When her breathing slowed, she rolled back over in the tangled bed. She felt an unusual sense of longing as the afterglow died away. This was a bit pathetic, actually. She thought of him again. Why him? Trillions of beings on the planet, and here she was, falling for one tall, grizzling Jedi Knight. A Jedi Master, of all things. Nomad. Mystery. And if not forbidden to her, at least unavailable. This was like lusting after a priest or a monk.

With a noise of disgust, she threw aside the sheet and got out of bed. She pulled on a long silk robe. Hot tea and a puff or two. Maybe that would help her get back to sleep. She went to the cramped apartment kitchen and rummaged for what she needed. Her mind wandered as she dispensed hot water and filled a small water pipe.

Her life on Coruscant was full and good. It was now everything she'd hoped it would be when she'd first arrived at the age of 19. Every form of entertainment for the mind and body was at her disposal, should she wish it. Her much loved and growing business consumed most of her time. She had numerous friends here and off world. She was living at the heart of political, religious and academic circles. She was at the center of it all. Galactic core. Good old Triple-Zero. The Big City. Her home.

She carried pipe and tea out to the balcony. She had crowded the ridiculously tiny afterthought with potted plants and containers of flowering vines. It stood out conspicuously among the other balconies on the side of the building. Easing into a chair wedged into a corner, she put her feet up on the railing and curled her toes around it. She sipped the fragrant tea and let the herbal smoke from her pipe do its soothing work. The view never seemed less exciting or beautiful to her. This was the best time for star-gazing, as the air-scrubbers finally caught up with the previous day's haze and the air was at its clearest now. True, only the brightest stars were visible because of the glare from the countless city lights. But the endless vista of sparkling lights made an incredible man-made galaxy. A police car, not restricted to the regimented lanes of traffic, purred past around the corner of her building. She didn't bother to straighten out her robe or wrap it more tightly around her propped-up legs. She could very well be mooning her so-called neighbors in the next building over, but in her present mood it didn't really bother her. The silk brushed against her legs in the breeze. Her hair, completely unbound and mussed, brushed the skin where her robe opened and on her arms. She leaned back further and sucked slowly on her pipe, enjoying all the arousing sensations. Whatever might be wrong with her, at least it felt good.

Blast and rot if he didn't cross her mind again! Qui-Gon Jinn. Had he worked some wizardry when he'd looked into her eyes or touched her? She felt like a droid with an electrical malfunction. Every time she thought rationally about her attraction to him, it seemed crazy. But to every part of her other than her brain, it made perfect sense. The man looked like he might be closer to her father's age. Her father! She snorted with distaste and dislike. Cold, ethnocentric, xenophobic and maddeningly patriarchal nature aside, he'd probably like this Qui-Gon Jinn. Someone to debate politics and share war stories with. Her mother would take one look at him and start a deliriously joyful cooking frenzy. Yes, Tak and Binny would like him, all right. Listen to me, what am I thinking? I have three awkward conversations with a customer and I'm already taking him home to meet mama and papa, she thought. Maybe there really was something wrong with her. Had it been that long since she'd been with a man that she went sappy over the first one with any maturity to have done something kind for her in who knew how long? Maybe she just needed a wild meaningless fling with a non-human. Or, as Ravi was forever trying to goad her into doing, get wired in a dream bar with him and have a fabulously erotic virtual orgy. She didn't know what she wanted. Real intimate relationships brought entirely too many risks, complications and hassles. She'd more or less sworn off them several years ago after a series of unsatisfying and painful affairs. She didn't need them. She didn't need anyone else in her life. There was really nothing at all she needed that she could think of, she observed as she rose from her chair. Life was grand just the way it was. This was just a case of wanting something she couldn't have. It would pass.

The sky was beginning to lighten to a dark blue-gray. She closed the door and went back to her bedroom where she stripped off the robe and lay back down in her bed. She fell into a restless sleep in which she dreamed the bedsheets became the entangling folds of a dark brown robe.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Ravi Brillion was the writer, producer and star of his own play. With Valia's storefront as his backdrop, he performed every role himself. Three friends guffawed and critiqued the lewd performance. A scattering of customers watched as well, or did their best to ignore it. Ravi was deep into the role of the female lead, sashaying back and forth before his audience with much exaggerated hip waggling. He enthusiastically ran his hands over the bulges of the melons tied under his shirt and the other fruit stuffed into his black pants. His artistic reverie was rudely interrupted by a loud throat clearing behind him. He noticed his audience's attention was no longer on him. He turned to find an annoyed Valia, holding a large empty basket and one hand on her hip. She set the basket on their table and slowly clapped her hands.

"I hate to disrupt your masterpiece, but may I please have my display back?"

"Lia! Love of my life! You're just in time to catch the last act!"

"That _was_ the last act."

"Come on, surely you can spare a few props for a work of art," the handsome art student pleaded.

"Art, my ass! You're scaring away my customers!"

"And a damn fine ass it is, too," Ravi made a point of admiring her backside. Valia brushed off his harmless, adolescent flirting.

"Mark my words, Traxis," he gave her a mock glower from beneath his swinging hank of bangs. "When the art critics and reviewers start beating down your door for the 'I knew him before he was a star' interviews, you'll be falling over yourself to give them your reverent opinion of the undiscovered genius you knew."

Valia rolled her eyes and made gagging noises. "Hand it over, Brillion."

"Seriously, Lia, I'm practicing for my playwriting class," he said reaching under his shirt to free the melons.

"I'm sure it will be wonderfully received without the fruit. Hey, watch it, you're going to bruise my melons!"

The table full of students erupted with laughter at her inadvertent slip. Valia snatched fruit from Ravi and placed it in the basket. He dropped to his knees in front of her. "Forgive me, my lady, I would never do anything to bruise your delicate melons." His eyes were directly level with her chest.

Flushing now, she grabbed the balis, teo fruits, beomuntis, freelas, liantiums and croniferra melons off the table. The other friends scraped their chairs back and got up from the table, still hooting. "We gotta take off," said one.

"See you later," Paccaia said to both Ravi and Lia. They left with noisy farewells, leaving Ravi to face the fruit bar owner's wrath alone.

"Who let you take all this? Do I need to tell the entire staff not to take their eyes off you?"

"I told them you said I could have it."

"They should know better than to listen to you."

"Hey, part of being a great performer is being believable."

Valia made a sound of disgust as she listened to her friend and dance partner.

"Got your friend over there to crack a smile," he said proudly, giving her a sly look.

"Who's that?" she asked distractedly.

"Old stone-face Jedi. Over by the tree."

Valia's heart lurched. She glanced quickly in the indicated direction. Qui-Gon. He'd been here to see all this? And he'd smiled at it? Either Ravi had actually been good, or she'd completely misjudged Qui-Gon's sense of humor. She was still getting used to the fact that he had one at all. There he sat, by himself, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. He was in serious study over a data-pad, absently stroking his beard. A mug and pitcher were placed on the table in front of him.

"Well, I'm sure now he knows what degenerates I hang around with and cater to," she snapped.

"I definitely think he's got a thing for you," Ravi said, mischief gleaming in his black eyes.

"He does not have a 'thing' for me! Jedi Knights aren't supposed to have... 'things' for people."

Ravi laughed, flinging back his black shock of bangs. "I think this one does. Why else is he here almost every day? I've seen the way he looks at you. Like he's really, really thirsty..."

Valia deliberately stamped out the flicker of delight at the confirmation of Qui-Gon looking at her. "He just likes a change of scenery from the Temple."

"That's what he told you, huh? 'Scenery'?" He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. Valia slapped at him affectionately, annoyed at her poor choice of wording. "Well, that's not exactly what he said." She wasn't sure how she was going to get out of this uncomfortable conversation. "He happens to be a complete gentleman. Unlike some people I know."

Ravi's smile widened. "You've got a thing for him," he said, pulling liantiums out of his boot tops.

"I do not have a 'thing' for him," she denied, minutely examining the skin of purple-striped pink melon for damage.

"Come on, Traxis! You spill or drop something every time you see him or talk to him here." Ravi shook his head and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "The way I see it, at the very least, this guy represents a whole lot of wasted inventory to you."

"I'm looking at wasted inventory as we speak. Give me that!" She snatched at the fruit he pulled out of a shirt pocket. Ravi was really enjoying watching her get riled.

"It's a thing."

"Not."

"Liar."

"Brat."

She grabbed at the long red pod-like beomuntis he'd wound hat-like on his head. Ravi sighed dramatically. "I'm really torn here, Lia."

"Torn? How so?"

"Well, between doing my manly duty as a friend and protecting you from involving yourself with him..."

"Oh, please--"

"Or telling you to just go for it and jump his bones."

"Ravi!"

"The smile you could bring to that face..." He gave her a leering wink.

"Don't be vulgar." She flushed again as his comment unwittingly came too close to her daydreams. "He can probably hear everything you're saying."

"Vulgar? Me? What about that story you were telling yesterday about what you and a certain body part can do with freelas--"

"Shush!"

Ravi unzipped his pants. Valia looked around in horror to see if any customers were watching this. He casually removed fruit from the inside of his pants. She looked skyward as if beseeching help. Then she held up a hand to stop him. "On second thought, Ravi, I don't think I want those back any more. You can keep those."

Ravi shrugged, his hands still down his crotch, and gave her a bright grin. She swore the native Coruscanti had been born without a sense of shame. She dared to glance back in Qui-Gon's direction. He was looking at them. The cloud-filtered sunlight gleamed on his hair and high forehead. The breeze lifted a section of hair off his shoulder. Was that a hint of a smile on his face? She could see the blue of his eyes all the way from here. She tentatively smiled and waved, then quickly averted her own eyes. Ravi sat back down in his chair and was retying his boot tops. "He's looking at you. Giving you that old thirsty eye."

"He's looking at the one-man public nuisance known as Ravi Brillion." She turned away from him with her heaping colorful basket, intending to set it back on the front counter where it belonged. Believing order restored in her dining area, she looked once more in the direction of the Jedi Master's table. Still looking this way. Just at her this time. No mistaking it. He winked at her. Valia's lower jaw and arms sagged. Fruits tumbled over the edge of the overfilled basket and fell to the stone pavers. A melon splattered messily. Ravi saw where she was staring and flung himself back in his chair and brayed laughter to the open sky. Valia turned to give him a dirty look. She spilled half of the rest of the basket lunging to grab the back of his chair as he fell backwards to keep his head from the same fate as the melon. Ravi was still laughing at her as she set the basket on the counter. Darting behind it, she glanced one last time at the openly smiling Qui-Gon, and fled both of them to the safety of the walk-in cooler.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Valia sat in the most unobtrusive place she could find in the viewing gallery. Off to one side, where she wouldn't be easily noticed. She shifted on the cool stone bench, trying to get comfortable. This place was no monument to physical comfort, that was for sure. From the moment she'd entered the Jedi Temple, she'd been awed by the sheer age of the place. Even these benches looked ancient. Long echoing corridors, high ceilings, somber statuary. All in polished stone. Robed figures moved everywhere, pages, young students, knights, and a variety of workers. No one seemed to give her any undue attention, yet she still felt conspicuous and out of place. She'd worn a long hooded cloak over her clothing out of an urge to be respectful, but to also provide some measure of anonymity. She wanted to see him, but the idea of running into him here made her nervous. Her requests for directions were met with polite answers, and now here she was in the public viewing area overlooking a large practice hall.

Several weeks before, Qui-Gon had off-handedly suggested she could visit any time she was free. She hadn't known there were places here open to the public. She'd politely declined, but soon curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she'd left the store for the afternoon. She'd wondered for years what went on in this place anyway. Her "boys" would be more thrilled to know about this than she had been. She'd have to bring them sometime.

Would Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan be here today? She scanned the floor. The sounds of various students and masters echoed around the room. Some were practicing hand-to-hand combat on mats. Others were using long, wooden staffs. Younger boys were doing gymnastic moves under the instruction of a small greenish humanoid. Then she saw him. The hair and height were unmistakable. Great flaming gobs of comet crust, he had no shirt on! What were they doing to him? Someone was tying a cord around his waist, apparently securing one of his arms to his side. Valia suddenly forgot how cold the bench was and moved forward to the edge of her seat. Obi-Wan was there, too. The two of them moved to a wide open space on the floor and faced each other. Both were wearing dark trousers and boots. Nothing else. Valia wanted to slap herself. The sight of all that bare male skin was making her giddy. She must look like a staring fool, but what she was looking at was all too easy on the eyes. Youthful Obi-Wan had heavier muscles and a patch of reddish-brown hair on his chest. Really nice, but she concentrated her attention on Qui-Gon. Large-boned and tapered in all the right places. Powerful-looking arms with just the right amount of brawn. Hard, hairless chest and flat stomach. Valia found herself memorizing details, her lustful curiosity about what had been beneath that tunic and robe being slaked.

What if they saw her up here? Now, of course, would be the perfect time for one of them to glance up here and catch her drooling. She shrunk back on the bench slightly. It was perfectly acceptable for her to be here, she reminded herself. There were even a few other observers scattered among the seats. Her eyes scanned over them, flicking past a lone figure cloaked in black all the way up in a far corner.

At that moment there was little chance of them noticing her, or much of anything else for that matter, as they had picked up lightsabers and ignited them. Valia had never seen one in use before, but she'd heard enough about them. They dueled almost lazily, Qui-Gon holding his own very well. Literally with one arm tied behind his back. No matter how Obi-Wan tried to get at him on the side he was vulnerable, Qui-Gon was able to deflect every blow, and even cause Obi-Wan to have a care for his own defense. Valia realized she was holding her breath, and she released it with a long gust. So this was what all the lore and legend was about. Her childhood, as well as that of so many other living beings for millennia, had been colored with tales of Jedi Knights with swords of bright fire. Here they were, storybook heroes in real life. How was it that this gallery wasn't packed? They moved like dancers. For just a minute Valia shared the desire of her young friends to be able to pick up a lightsaber and use it like that.

At some invisible signal, they stopped and lowered their weapons. Qui-Gon must have been explaining something to Obi-Wan about how to make a certain move. She couldn't hear what they were saying from up here. Qui-Gon was demonstrating something with his foot, and Obi-Wan was nodding. Their heads were bent close together. She had gotten the sense that Qui-Gon would be a good and patient teacher. They faced off again and joined in mock battle. This time the sparks flew further, the blows were harder, and the looks on their faces were more intense. A line of eight or nine-year-old boys and girls filed in behind a Master and stood watching the duel with calm fascination. This is what they dreamed of being one day; all their training directed toward when they would be masters of those lightning bolts. Valia was forgetting to breathe again. To her untrained eyes it looked as though either one of them could be cut down any instant.

Again at some signal they stopped. Obi-Wan untied Qui-Gon's arm. Something he said while doing it must have struck his master as funny, because he threw his long-maned head back with a short shout of laughter. Now an assistant came forward and began to bind Obi-Wan's arm in a similar fashion. Qui-Gon casually walked in circles, swinging his now free arm to loosen it. The light from the high opaque windows played across the flexing muscles in his broad shoulders and upper arms. Valia was not so far away that she would miss the pale tracery of scars across his back and sides. His hair was starting to stick to his sweating neck and upper back. She could not take her eyes from him. She was even more entranced by him than she'd been before. Coming here was going to result in even more days of hormonal delirium, she thought with dismay. She wondered if anyone else had sat up here and warmed this bench the way she was doing. She wondered if anyone else had warmed it because of him. She brushed away the thought.

By this time teacher and student had reversed roles, and once again they faced each other, weapons ignited. This time when they fenced, Valia could see that Obi-Wan did not quite possess the grace and fluidity of his master when given the same limitations. She wondered what they would face in their lives that made it vital that they be able to fight on with one arm disabled, or even missing. Obi-Wan missed his footing and nearly stumbled. Qui-Gon lifted his blade out of the way while he regained his balance. He patiently gave some instructions to his pupil and demonstrated a pivoting, crouching motion to him. Obi-Wan duplicated the move. They clashed sabers again, Qui-Gon shouting occasional encouragement or pointers. Valia watched until even she could see a difference in Obi-Wan's technique. The afternoon passed. She was startled to realize she'd spent nearly all of it here observing the Jedi practice. She was suddenly aware that her mouth was parched and she badly needed something to drink. But then that's what happened when it was left hanging open for too long.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"So very serious today, Obi-Wan," Valia remarked to him, strolling past his table to check on him. As if he wasn't equally as serious every day. She stopped behind him. "What are you looking at?"

Obi-Wan looked up from the large data screen he was frowning over. He sighed. "Hyperdrive generator schematics."

Valia grimaced, looking over his shoulder. "Looks like the inside of a rotted out liantium tree." She peered at the complicated diagrams. She could take apart and trouble-shoot her small droids and some of her equipment, but she had utterly no clue what these meant. Curiosity piqued, she leaned her arms on the back of a nearby chair. "Why are you studying these?"

"Qui-Gon and the other masters believe it 's good to pick an area of interest and become proficient in it, to better serve others. It's also a good idea to have something to fall back on in case...well, in case you don't pass the Trials and become a Knight."

Wash out of the program? Valia hadn't known that could happen. She understood the life of a Padawan-learner was difficult and they faced great pressure, but she had little idea of what the specific details of the daily life of a Jedi-in-training were.

"Well, I suppose that's very practical thinking, don't you think so?" She chose not to patronize him and merely tell him she knew he'd succeed. She was sure he'd make a great Jedi Knight.

"Oh yes, it is."

"Need a refill on that juice?"

"Yes, please," Obi-Wan said, rubbing his eyes. Valia went to the bar and quickly returned with a pitcher and refilled his glass. She also slipped a plate of sliced beomunti on the table next to his elbow. She smiled and winked at him. "I'll leave you alone now," she said and left the pitcher on the table for him. She'd sweeten up the boy yet. She had resisted the urge to ask him where Qui-Gon was. She no longer bothered denying to herself the daily hope that she'd see him. But lately she'd distinctly sensed disapproval in his student. Disapproval aimed at any attention she gave to Qui-Gon. She'd also caught what she was sure were the same looks at Qui-Gon when he gave her any attention, but more covert and hidden. Could he be jealous of her? Or was he just trying to steer his master away from doing anything embarrassing or forbidden? The last thing she wanted to do was come between master and apprentice or cause trouble for them. But Qui-Gon had become a fairly regular fixture at her business. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Obi-Wan. They'd appear for days at a time and then vanish for weeks. She'd catch herself worrying and wondering about them until they reappeared at the table under the tree as mysteriously as they'd gone.

Qui-Gon often spoke to her, but just as often left before she could find the time or excuse to approach him. It was probably better that way. She reasoned if she could just dismiss this huge attraction to him as just an adolescent crush that would never amount to anything and eventually fade, well, that's exactly what would happen. So then why did it never seem to lessen? She was fond of him and his dry humor and wise observations on life, and enjoyed his reassuring presence. Watching out for her, or watching her? She wasn't sure which. When his eyes were on her she felt the most curious sensation that he was trying to tell her things with them, as if all she needed to do was look deeply into them and they could have entire wordless conversations. So far she'd thwarted him by either closing her eyes or looking away. She wasn't sure she wanted him to see what was on her mind.

She propped her elbows on the bar counter. No customers needed waiting on and inventory ordering was taken care of. She could do something serious, like continue her search for a new store location. She eyed a basket on the counter full of Malastarian melons. Or she could see if she still knew how to juggle. The pink and purple striped globes were about the right size. Normally this was something she might holler at Ravi for doing, but...he wasn't here now. And the place was nearly deserted at the moment. She picked three melons out of the basket and moved outside in front of the counter where she'd have more room. She held one in one hand and two in the other, trying to remember how to start. She hefted them, gauging their weight. She gently popped them into the air, and surprised herself when her hands remembered what to do and she kept them from falling. She concentrated on only moving her forearms and wrists, keeping her upper arms still. Chuluk snorted with amusement at his employer from behind the counter where he was restocking drinkware. Valia continued, wondering how to stop. She glanced out at Obi-Wan. He was staring at her, openly curious, hyperdrive schematics completely ignored. She stopped juggling and caught the fruits awkwardly. She grinned at him. He smiled back. On sheer impulse, Valia tossed him a melon. He caught it and looked at it as if unsure what to do with it. He politely tossed it back to her. Her grin widened. The boy showed every sign of growing up to be far more aloof, serious and introspective than even his master.

"What do you like to do for fun, Obi-Wan?" Valia walked over to his table. The young Jedi looked at her as if she'd asked him to sit on the melon and hatch a rancor.

"Fun?"

"Yeah. You know, what you do in your spare time. Amusement. Hobbies. Entertainment. Playing. Goofing off."

"We never 'goof off'," he said a little loftily. Valia laughed with delight at him. Of course he wouldn't.

"A thousand pardons, oh serious one. But surely there must be something, even if you don't call it goofing off. A famous philosopher once said 'change of work is rest', but some deep thinker from my own world noted that humans are notorious for craving play, that it's a sign of great intelligence. I like his thinking better."

Obi-Wan Kenobi thought about this. Valia nearly laughed out loud again at the way his brow furrowed. He was serious about even this.

"Well, I used to enjoy building little model ships and fighters. I like swimming. And I do really enjoy saber practice. I suppose I look on that as fun."

"Hmmmm. That still sounds too much like work."

"It does?"

"Here. While you think about that, can you juggle?" She tossed him the melons one after another.

"I don't know. I've never done it before."

"I'll bet with your reflexes you could pick it up in a minute."

Obi-Wan examined the melons in his hands. He stood up.

"Practice with just two to start. Hold your hands out like this." She gently moved his arms into the right position. "Your palms will do most of the work, popping them in the air. Try to never let them go higher than your forehead, so you can always keep your eyes on them."

He looked at her again as if expecting to be the butt of some joke. Valia shrugged and smiled. "Are you worried Qui-Gon is going to see you?"

"I'm supposed to be studying. That's what he left me here to do," he said stiffly.

"And so you were. I saw you. But you need regular breaks from it, too. Your eyes won't get strained, and it's a better way to study. Just tell him you were practicing your hand-eye coordination," she said, her smile taking on a sly look. She just absolutely had to see him do something frivolous.

Obi-Wan shrugged and threw himself into a concentrated effort to learn this new skill. With much laughing and fumbling, Valia taught him in stages. Learning how to juggle yourself was one thing, but teaching it to someone else was entirely different. She demonstrated it for him by doing it herself several times. He tried again and again, a look of concentration on his face, to do as he'd seen Lia doing. At last he seemed to pick up the pattern. He found the rhythm and sustained it. A smile broke over his face as he kept all three melons moving in the air.

"Unbelievable. What did I tell you?" Valia watched him with her hands on her hips. "It took me months to learn how to do that. Months!"

Obi-Wan kept juggling, not wanting to lose the rhythm. He studied the pattern the fruit made. This was easy. "I think I see openings for more. There could be more melons in the gaps between the other ones." His eyes quickly flicked at them. "Toss me a couple more, I want to try it."

"Show-off!" laughed Valia as she went to fetch more melons from the basket. "I think I've created a monster..." But she was happy to see him actually playing.

When she returned, he stopped, catching the melons against his chest.

"Hold two in each hand, and when you've got the hang of four, which should be no problem now that you've mastered three, we'll see if you can do five, which I can't do myself."

Obi-Wan continued to juggle melons. When the time came to try five, he was determined to succeed at it, just to master the skill, but also because she couldn't do it. He had almost succeeded in trying to keep five in the air when he fumbled. Trying to catch the suddenly slippery, round melons he missed one and it landed on the stone with a messy splatter. Both he and Valia stared at it for a second, then simultaneously burst into laughter.

"Oops," observed Obi-Wan, grinning at her.

"Oops," agreed Valia, laughing through her hands. Obi-Wan lifted up a booted foot, checking for bits of melon and juice. This struck Valia as particularly funny and made her laugh all the more. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she had to lean on a nearby table. It was too hilarious. It served him right. She was trying to tell him she would go get him a towel when suddenly he wasn't laughing with her any more and a shadow had fallen over the melon at their feet.

"Master," he said softly, his head bowed.

Qui-Gon studied the two of them for several long seconds, one the contrite padawan, the other the hauntress of his dreams, and anything but contrite. Her eyes were still sparkling with merriment from beneath her bangs. He should have expected to find Obi-Wan doing something uncharacteristic after being too long in this place. It seemed to have that effect on them. Or rather its owner did.

He'd watched them for some time from a distance away on the plaza. The sunlight gleamed off their hair as they stood together, most brightly on Lia's. She was wearing the most casual attire he'd seen her in yet: flat slippers, loose satiny trousers and a sleeveless shirt. The perfect clothing for playing on a warm day such as this. And there she was, playing with his protege'. Even from here he could hear that musical laugh of hers, as she touched his hands and moved his arms just so, encouraging him, or as she demonstrated for him. He should have felt mildly annoyed. Perhaps exasperated. Most likely a well-practiced void of feeling would have been the expected reaction from within him. But he was completely unprepared for the crushing wave of emotion that threatened to flatten him where he stood. He closed his eyes against it, against the pain, the stunning bliss of it. There was no willing the feeling away. It made no sense. The only word that his wildly searching mind could find for it was love. He was in love with her. Loved her. Is that what this was? He stopped struggling to fight it, stopped trying to analyze it and rationalize it away. He let it wash through him. It was just so much easier. He'd worry about what to do about it later. For now he concentrated on gaining control over his heart rate and breathing, and the tightness in his throat and chest.

His apprentice remained where he was, his head lowered, waiting for his instructions or reaction. He was sensing for his mood and erring on the side of caution. Obi-Wan felt something intense, but strangely being kept from him.

"Obi-Wan. Take those back to the counter now," Qui-Gon said softly.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan answered, clutching the four remaining melons and moved to obey.

Valia studied Qui-Gon's face as he thoughtfully watched his student. She made herself keep her eyes on it to see if she could read him. And she'd had enough of the way she became outrageously demure around him. She was relieved to see he apparently wasn't upset with them. Not angry, but definitely deep in thought.

"He's not going to be in trouble, is he?"

Qui-Gon turned to look down at her. She maintained eye contact with him. "I started this. I'm sorry if he is."

"No. He's not," he answered slowly.

"Well then... am I in trouble?" she probed after a curious pause. Had she broken some Jedi taboo by causing his apprentice to goof off? His face was its usual contemplative mask, but there seemed to be a lot going on behind it. His eyes looked dark and mysterious, from some trick of the light maybe. He looked at her for so long she nearly did what she swore she wouldn't do and drop her gaze. There was a surprising amount of warmth in the way he was looking at her.

"Possibly," he said. "But not in the way you think."

Valia put her hands on her hips and gave him a tilt-headed quizzical look at this enigmatic statement. My dear, he thought, you've never seen a man whose heart has just been ripped free of its moorings for you? A smile spread over his face and he laughed. Just one short laugh upwards to the sunny sky. She stared at his adam's-apple, startled because this was the last thing she'd expected, and because she instinctively knew it was a rare thing. Well, it had been pretty funny to see Obi-Wan juggling fruit. But there had to be something else behind his good humor.

She felt an intense rush of desire for him again, similar to the very first, but this time tempered with a longing to know the man, his thoughts, his fears, his dreams. Her knees nearly went weak with it. She leaned on the back of a chair with what she hoped was a casual-looking move. She'd never wanted anyone so fiercely before, not even as a teenaged girl. When he leaned forward and lightly brushed her shoulder affectionately, she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Her skin tingled where he'd drawn his fingertips over it.

Then Obi-Wan was there again, and the current between them was broken. Qui-Gon clapped a companionable hand down on his padawan's shoulder.

"Enough playing with food for today, young Obi-Wan. We need to go. Didn't Lia tell you how easily those melons bruise?" He slanted a smile at her. She could only give him a weak, abashed smile in return.

Obi-Wan's relief was evident on his face. He gave Lia a questioning look. Had she come to his defense? There was definitely something between her and Qui-Gon, but he couldn't quite pin it down. His master seemed to have put up walls against him lately. And what was it in their conversation that had made him laugh? And then touch her like that? He wasn't sure, but the Jedi council and the Order would most likely frown upon and strongly discourage this. Just how far had this gone? Another suspicion hovered at the back of his mind. He wondered if he had just failed some test. Study without being distracted. Had they collaborated on this? Was this just another excuse for his master to be near her every chance he got? Why was he so interested in her?

Qui-Gon had once told him that an overly suspicious mind was an open gate to the Dark Side. He frowned. It shouldn't be any of his business. He didn't like questioning his master's actions and decisions. All his training told him he should not. But still... He was still shaking off the chagrin of having Qui-Gon catch him at fooling around. He decided he didn't like this unusual situation as he collected his data screen and they walked away.

Valia gave in to the urge to sit down and daydream for just a minute. Bracca, Paccaia and Ravi found her a short while later, staring into space, sitting next to a shattered melon.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sweat trickled down Obi-Wan's right temple. Another afternoon of saber practice, and mentor and student were well into the lesson. He and Qui-Gon were taking a short break. Taking a deep breath, he happened to glance up into the long gallery running the side of this particular practice hall. The public was welcome to view practice sessions. It was a gesture of good will from the Jedi to the populace of Coruscant, and to the people they served. It was also understood that it was not there as an ego-builder or to cause inattentiveness. Normally during the day there were a few observers scattered in the seats. Today Obi-Wan's eyes stopped on a familiar-looking figure. The small woman was wrapped in a pale cloak and hood but there was no mistaking who it was. It was not the first time he'd seen Valia Traxis up there. Her gray eyes widened slightly and her body seemed to stiffen as she saw him looking at her. He tried not to glare, and turned away quickly. Qui-Gon had not once looked in the direction of the gallery.

"Your fruit lady friend is here." Obi-Wan spoke softly, not looking directly at his master.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow as he turned to study his student. He'd caught the sardonic tone in his voice. It was not like Obi-Wan. She could be your friend as well, he thought. Obi-Wan glanced at him, and looked away again.

"Yes, I was aware of Valia quite some time ago." Qui-Gon casually mopped his sweating forehead.

Obi-Wan couldn't resist another glance up at her. He gestured toward her with his head. "Why is she here? Why is she watching us? She's watching you, isn't she, Master? She is going to be a distraction!"

Qui-Gon experienced a spurt of dismay at his student's outburst. Obi-Wan's voice had carried to several nearby Jedi students. He sighed. The observation was unfortunately too close to the truth. Qui-Gon's ulterior motive for inviting Valia to the observation gallery was to test himself to see if he could practice and teach without being affected by her. He could, but it took effort to completely ignore her. A vague sorrow at having to do so lingered each time. Now Obi-Wan's opinion of her presence had lately become all too plain. The sullen looks, the bold questioning of where he was going every time he left the temple and where he had been when he returned, and the growing bad attitude in his student were becoming intolerable. As if he didn't have enough to do battling himself. He relaxed his jaws, unclenching his teeth, letting go of his anger. It was time to teach his padawan lesson or two in concentration and end this impudence.

"Have you practiced that back-hand parry we were working on last week?"

"A little, but I didn't--"

"Then we'll do more right now." Qui-Gon flung down the towel and picked up the training saber he had been using today. They were using the low-powered sabers less and less in their workouts, graduating to the real weapons. These would burn if the blade struck, but would not kill like the ones they usually carried. Obi-Wan moved quickly to pick up his own weapon. A tingle of warning went through him as he warily faced his master. There was now something dangerous flickering in Qui-Gon's eyes. Obi-Wan swallowed hard and assumed a ready stance. Then Qui-Gon lunged at him, forcing him to immediately defend himself using a backhanded thrust. Having barely deflected that, he was forced to counter another and yet another lightning swing. Other blows were interspersed with the attacks meant to force him into using and strengthening the move he was not skilled in.

Qui-Gon's blade was a blur, his hair flying, his booted feet barely touching the floor. A sheen of sweat appeared on his bare chest and shoulders. Several younger practicing students stopped what they were doing to watch. The harsh buzzing song of swinging sabers echoed in the room. The blades cracked and sparked against each other.

Obi-Wan performed a completely unnecessary backflip to narrowly escape the scorching heat of a swing to his waist. This was the exact kind of flashy move Qui-Gon had expected him to do in the presence of a rapt audience, and something he had been trying to train out of him. Qui-Gon was in his face the instant he landed, driving him across the floor. Obi-Wan gathered himself to rise to this challenge, and began to move from the defensive position to an offensive one. He called upon the Force and the suppleness of his arms and swung at Qui-Gon with renewed strength. Now it was Obi-Wan driving his master across the wide floor, using his body to snap speed into every swing. He felt the exhilarating fire of his youth and ability. Qui-Gon retreated, still forcing his student into a backhanded defense every chance he could.

Obi-Wan stretched out his blade and managed to achieve a light graze across Qui-Gon's ribcage. He noted the red welt that appeared a minute after his score. He savored a second of satisfaction. He'd get to show Miss Traxis exactly what he was made of today.

Qui-Gon was now anchoring the duel in place. He was concentrating intently on his student's performance. Then he saw the opening he had been waiting for and snaked out his arm. The next thing Obi-Wan saw was the opposite wall of the one he'd been facing, and it was strangely upside down. He was twisted in mid-air and landed heavily on his backside. His left arm flopped down, released from Qui-Gon's iron grip. His weapon clattered to the floor, spinning away. Stunned, he felt prickly heat on the back of his neck. He did not need to turn around to know his master stood behind him, the tip of his saber pointed at the base of his skull. Had this been a mortal enemy, he would have long been dispatched quickly and efficiently execution style. Swallowing his humiliation he sat on the floor a few seconds more, and then turned to face his tall teacher. Qui-Gon's face and body visibly relaxed. He released his battle tension with several slow, deep breaths. But a stern ire still shone in his eyes.

"A distraction for who, my Padawan?"

Obi-Wan dropped his eyes with creeping shame. He could not deny to himself or to his master that he'd been bent on impressing Lia. But surely Qui-Gon must know he wasn't doing it out of an interest of his own in her. He had just gotten a little cocky. Come to think of it, he'd been more than a little cocky lately. He knew a sudden shame for the way he'd been behaving toward Qui-Gon. His master was teaching him a lesson, a valuable one that could some day save his life.

"What is the lesson here, Obi-Wan?" came the soft question.

Still sitting on the floor and staring down at the very hard surface of it, Obi-Wan tried to think of a suitable answer. "Don't lose focus on the task at hand. Don't be distracted by...surroundings."

"Anything else?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Don't show off. And don't ever, ever forget where your non-saber hand is."

Qui-Gon's expression softened. "That would about cover it." He flicked off the saber and extended a hand to help Obi-Wan off the floor. Trying not to wince from pain, Obi-Wan gripped Qui-Gon's forearm and stood. He felt his composure returning. He deliberately turned his back on the viewing gallery. Not even now did Qui-Gon acknowledge its existence or who sat in it. He studied the opposite wall. "It seems I've heard nothing but impertinence from you lately," he said softly. "It does not become you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan stared at the wall too. "I'm sorry for my disrespect, Master." Qui-Gon turned to bore holes with his gaze into his student. This disrespect will end now. Show any for her and I will most certainly toss you on your butt again, the look said.

"Some of your questions do not deserve an answer." Such as the ones regarding how thirsty he was. "Others...I have none to give you because I just don't know the answer." He was referring to Obi-Wan's outburst of a few minutes ago. And the unspoken questions that hovered every time they were around Lia. "I am trusting that this... fascination I have with Valia will be resolved in time. I ask you to do the same, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon was smiling, but Obi-Wan saw the weariness of an inner struggle in his eyes. He felt a surge of worried affection for him. He nodded, knowing this situation was far from over. He knew if Qui-Gon wanted anything to do with this woman there would be no stopping him. He may not like it, but he decided to do his best to trust his master as he'd done for the last five years and be patient.

He also knew he was going to have an incredibly bruised ass tomorrow unless he visited the healers later. Hopefully without having to do much explaining. He couldn't resist one more question. "Can you show me how you did that?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"I think that's a job for the owner-operator." Drre nodded toward the front of the store, topknot of hair waving as her head moved. Valia followed the direction of her server's look. She was being teased, because there was Qui-Gon. She grabbed a tray and waved Drre off with a sardonic smile.

She studied him from behind the counter. He looked tired. He looked like he had a headache. Here was the picture of a man who could use a pick-me-up, or encouragement or...something. An oddly powerful nurturing impulse welled up in her. This was a new feeling toward him, but one she could at least act on. She began putting things together on the tray. He might not want to talk today, but that was fine, she supposed. Maybe that would help sink this crush she had on him. She'd just have to watch her thoughts around him. If she was tempted to think physically arousing images of him, she'd just make herself think about something else. Like the very unsexy dispute she was having with the manufacturer who'd supposedly repaired one of her stasis units. And she had something she wanted to ask him about.

The weather had abruptly cooled down. It was as regulated on Coruscant as possible, but nature still feebly gasped now and then. She poured two mugfuls of a hot spiced juice mix that was always a big seller when it got chilly. She headed out with her tray.

Qui-Gon's scowl softened when he saw her coming. She stopped next to him and gave him an exaggerated cautious look. "Do you want to talk about it, or should I take a flying leap off the next building?"

He answered with a dry chuckle. "Is it that obvious?"

"Everyone else was terrified to wait on you," she teased. "So they threw me out here."

Qui-Gon gestured toward a chair. "Please."

Valia set down the tray and took a seat. She pushed a mug toward him. "Here. Try some of this. And then you can tell me what's bothering you."

Qui-Gon absently took the offered mug and gazed off at some mysterious point in space.

"Or not," she said when he remained silent. He smiled at her and lifted the mug to drink. He admired her through the drifting steam over its rim. She was dressed in an almost black shade of purple. Those tempting wisps of hair were drifting against her neck again. He wrenched his eyes away from her breasts and sighed. How could he possibly tell her that she herself was part of the trouble? Yet he felt better already just being near her. He warmed his hands on the mug. She sat calmly next to him, peeling and slicing a thick-skinned blue fruit.

"It's Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon began with the air of a man uncomfortable discussing his student with a non-Jedi. With anyone.

"Is he sick? Is there something wrong with him?"

"No. Not physically. He's..." he trailed off.

"Getting an attitude?" Valia supplied helpfully, taking a guess. She had a suspicion what the problem was.

"That would be a good way to put it, yes."

Valia raised her eyes to look at him. "He's not peeved about that melon-juggling thing, is he?"

"No, I don't think so." He and Qui-Gon had had another seething, silent argument about something completely trivial. Qui-Gon hadn't seen him since he'd stalked away afterward, which had been yesterday.

"How old is he?" Valia asked after his brief sketch.

"He'll be eighteen in a few weeks."

Valia laid down her small vibro-blade and pushed a plateful of sliced fruit toward him. She took a fortifying sip out of her own mug. "Well," she said, trying to think of what to say to him. "I have no experience raising teenaged boys whatsoever. With the possible exception of my good friend Ravi." This got another smile out of Qui-Gon. "Maybe he's just going through another phase of that typical teen-age angst. It's usually a hard age for anyone. Is he your first padawan?"

"No, he's the third."

Valia raised her eyebrows. "How did your first two turn out?"

"The first was a success. The second..." A look of pain flicked across his expressive features and then was gone. "Well, let's just say the outcome wasn't what I'd hoped. We had a terrible falling out."

All right, thought Valia. We won't go there. But I wonder if he worries he's going to relive whatever happened.

"I get the feeling that you and Obi-Wan are very close. Am I right in guessing you're much closer to him than the other two?"

Affection softened the Jedi Master's face. "Yes. You're right."

"Well, some famous philosopher, I forget who, said we hurt the ones we love the most. It doesn't make any sense, but it seems to be true. Maybe that's what's going on." She picked up a piece of fruit and flicked a seed from it. "He's very protective of you." Trying to protect you from me, she thought.

His eyebrows went up and his forehead wrinkled. "I would think it's more the other way around."

"Oh, I think it goes both ways with you two. And maybe he's threatened by anything that would come between you." Or anyone. Out of the Jedi master and apprentice pairs she'd seen, none seemed more like father and son than this one. She popped the slice of fruit in her mouth and munched. Then she proceeded to tell him several anecdotal and funny stories about her brothers and cousins when they had been seventeen or so, and the parental agony they had caused. And how it had been resolved. When she finished, he was smiling broadly.

"Why haven't you been to your homeworld for so long, Lia?" he asked after a pause.

"Because I _am_ home," she quickly returned. The look Qui-Gon gave her said he'd patiently wait for her to elaborate the real reason.

"Well, I have no reason to go back to Nyme'. And not much time to be away from the store. I still talk to my family every now and then." She drained her mug. "My father chose my younger brother instead of me to run the farm. It's in his very capable hands. It will pass on to him when Papa is gone. My ever so fertile brother pleases my father by carrying on the Traxis dynasty."

Was that just the slightest bitter aftertaste left by her words? Qui-Gon clearly saw there were large issues here she was just now getting over. He did some mental backwards tip-toeing of his own and refrained from asking her for more details about her past for now.

"And another thing. I really don't care for space travel. It's a stupid thing really, but every time I'm on a ship about to make the jump to hyperspace, I think 'this is it. I'm going to die'. Just a silly phobia, I suppose."

Qui-Gon gave her a long, searching look. Finally he spoke. "If it helps you, my dear one, I will tell you that you need not worry you are going to die that way. You're going to live to be a hundred. You are going to be around for a very long time, my beautiful juice-slinging friend."

Valia's eyebrows arched into her bangs. She stared at him frozen in mid-chew. She wasn't sure which part of his triple-part bomb hit her with the most impact, the fact that he'd called her beautiful, that he considered her dear, or that she was going to live to be a very old woman. She finished chewing and swallowed. She nearly laughed at his pronouncement. "Well," she managed. "How do you happen to know that?" Then she remembered she was talking to a Jedi Master.

Qui-Gon Jinn shrugged under his dark robe. "I just...do." Every once in a while he was gifted with a glimpse into the future. These glimpses came at odd times. Then he was the one to look away from her eyes, as if embarrassed to have revealed too much of his thoughts.

Valia smiled at him. She was enjoying this unprecedented display of vulnerability in him. But there had been a touch of sadness in his eyes. She was rocked by her own wave of protectiveness for him. And an urge to change the subject. She remembered the unusual object tucked in a pocket of her blouse. She pulled out the knotted blade of grass. It was drying but still green.

"You know," she said, turning it over in her fingers, "I've gotten some really interesting tips from customers over the years. Some of them weren't so nice. Not nearly as nice as this. You wouldn't happen to know who might have left this one, would you?" She showed him the long blade of grass with the intricately woven knot in the center. It was a small work of art. She'd found it on their table after he and Obi-Wan had last visited.

He smiled as he looked at it. "Perhaps it just fell out of that tree."

"Perhaps one of you two has very nimble fingers."

"Perhaps."

Valia held his eyes captive for several heartbeats with her own. Those incredibly beautiful, upswept eyes, above matching cheekbones.

"I confess. I left it."

"You made this?"

'Yes."

She marveled at the neat, flat knot, amazed that his large hands had fashioned such a thing. "How did you do this?" she asked, trying to trace the pattern.

He leaned forward on the table, smiling. "Ancient Jedi secret."

She smirked at him.

"It's sometimes used as a teaching exercise in patience, or a meditative tool. But something just told me you would appreciate it for its own sake."

She leaned her face against one hand and turned it over, examining it closely. She did find herself outrageously charmed by his small gift. She flashed him another smile, then dropped her eyes. She squashed the urge to run. She also fought the urge to let herself read anything into this.

"I...well, yes. I do. Thank you." She wondered what there might be that he still needed to summon reserves of patience for. Probably Obi-Wan was enough.

There was almost nothing in Qui-Gon Jinn's life that was soft, warm or pretty. He didn't wish for any other life than the one he'd always known as a Jedi. That was the way it was destined to be. But he did know enough to appreciate and savor small pleasures when he encountered them, without ever letting them rule his life. If this was the closest he would ever get to this woman, it would have to be enough. He told himself he should not dare to hope for more. He reached out and took her hand with both of his. "Thank _you_," he said softly, giving it a brief squeeze. He rose from the table.

"You're...you're welcome. But what did I do?" Valia's hand felt like it was shimmering.

"You listened."

"I think I exercised my jaws more than my ears."

He looked fondly down at her. "You took the time to be kind and try to help."

She waved a hand as if it was nothing. "I can't believe kindness has become such a rare commodity."

Qui-Gon wondered at her character, how it was that ten years on Coruscant hadn't made her crusty, paranoid or completely decadent. I wish kindness really were as abundant as you see it, he thought. It isn't. He nodded his head northward. "There are those even in the Jedi temple who probably wouldn't have bothered to hear out an old knight and his concerns."

"Oh, get out of town! You're not old," she blurted immediately and truthfully. Did he really feel that way or had he just been using an idle form of speech? She'd revised her opinion of his age after the first time she'd seen him at saber practice. There had been absolutely nothing old about what she'd seen. And there was nothing old about the ageless, youthful glint that was in his eyes most of the time. As soon as she conjured images from those sweaty, bare-chested workouts, she caught herself. She remembered she wasn't going to think about that. He was giving her that searching look again. Too late. All right, she thought. She looked straight into his eyes, thinking I've seen you with half your clothes off, and I really liked what I saw. His eyebrows quirked. A small sideways smile pulled at his mouth. "And you flatter me, Miss Traxis."

Valia could only return a creeping smile of her own, and helplessly roll her eyes. Did he refer to her thoughts or her words? She could feel herself starting to blush. She'd really been having a problem with that the last few months. She rose from the table, busying herself clearing it to keep her eyes lowered. "Well, I think things will work out between you and Obi-Wan. I'm sure you two will kiss and make up soon enough."

Qui-Gon snorted at her choice of wording at the same time she regretted it. Who was reading whose mind now? The thought of kissing her had occurred to him just earlier. And countless other times.

"Just a figure of speech, Master Jinn," she said coyly, and slowly returned to the counter. She watched him stride away with a considerably lighter step than when he'd arrived. She picked up the grass knot from the tray and looked at it again. She finally noticed Ravi sitting at the counter. He looked questioningly at the object in her fingers.

"Is that what they study over there?" he nodded his head in the direction of the temple. "Basketweaving?"

For once Valia didn't have a smart-ass retort for her young friend. She merely gave him a sour look and carefully pocketed the knot.


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

Obi-Wan Kenobi leaned against the counter of the now very familiar juice bar. True, this was a good place to take a break, and the people watching was hard to beat, but...did they have to come here so often? He glanced to his left at his master. Here was half the reason they came here so often. The other half was the owner of the place, whom they were watching serve a cluster of Ithorians herself. She set a huge bowl of green goo in the middle of their table with a flourish. They made grunts of approval. She lowered her forehead and rubbed it against the flat space between the eyes of presumably the highest-ranking member at the table. She spoke to them warmly with the aid of a small translator clipped to the collar of her blouse. After making sure all was well she returned to the area behind the bar.

"I'll have the money tomorrow, Lia. I'll pay you back." Ravi was perched on a stool at the far end of the bar.

"You're damned right you will," she said pleasantly, unclipping the translator and tossing it on the counter. "This is absolutely the last time I'm bailing you out of jail for your mouthing off, Ravi. My funds and friendship with the police only stretch so far. Do it again and you can get yourself out, or rot in a holding cell."

Ravi actually looked apologetic. He knew she was as good as her word. "I'm sorry, Lia," he said glumly. "My father will cover it. No problem."

Valia fixed him with a stare, her dark storm-cloud colored eyes steady. Ravi's father was a stupendously wealthy real-estate developer on Coruscant who didn't pay much attention to his son's affairs, and never really had since his birth. Not his protests over various civil injustices, his opinions or his passionate creativity. But he was ever ready to fork over the necessary funds to get him out of trouble. And keep him from being more personally responsible.

"No, Ravi. You see, there is a problem, because I don't want to see a single credit from your father. This time you're going to pay me out of your own pocket. And I don't care how long it takes." She was refilling his glass with whatever he'd been drinking. "I'll only charge you two percent interest."

Ravi was not too sure he liked this new, much slower payment plan. He slumped on his stool and rolled his eyes at her. "You love me so tough, mama," he murmured with a feeble attempt at humor. It was an old joke between them. Ravi's father had been a help to Lia when she had first arrived on Coruscant. Had she been open to the idea, it would have been very little effort for her to persuade him to marry her. She might have been Ravi's stepmother. And one very wealthy juice-slinger. Probably miserable with a workaholic man such as Ravi's father, but free of financial worries.

"Someone's got to look out for your crazy butt," she said pulling a container of sliced fruit out of a refrigerator. "And it isn't just about the money."

"If only I hadn't gotten tangled up in that grappling line. That was stupid."

Valia slapped her forehead. "Of course. That was the only stupid thing about the whole night."

"But Lia! Sector Governor Uniog doesn't give a shit about homeless rights, no matter what he promises. He's an apathetic, lying, Dug-faced, lard-assed son of a--"

"Well now, do you really think screaming it at the man through his kitchen skylight is going to help any?"

Obi-Wan stifled a disbelieving smirk. Qui-Gon sat impassively next to him wearing a frown of consternation. He foresaw an early death for the young man unless he learned to control his volatile nature and pick his battles.

"Excuse me, but does no one care about anything in the City any more? This is the kind of thing you have to do to get anyone to notice. No one understands." He sounded exactly like a petulant child.

"Oh stop it already, you're breaking my heart. You know none of that's true." Valia put her hands on his forearms and rubbed them. "Here, have some of this." She picked up a piece of fruit and held it to his mouth. "I wish you wouldn't hang around with that group. There have got to be better ways..." Their conversation dropped to a low murmur. She tried to dispense tough love at the same time she was hand-feeding him.

Paccaia and Bracca arrived and begged to be given the same personal service as Ravi. She laughingly fed all of them, hoping a sanitation inspector wouldn't happen along. She sighed as she looked at the half empty container of fruit. "You guys may as well eat the rest of this. It's going to outdate in an hour anyway."

"Thanks, Lia!"

"You're a real pal."

"And don't any of you forget it, either," she muttered, as she disappeared into the back of the store. She returned with her blaster, intending to do its monthly maintenance, having nothing else to do at the moment. When Ravi saw it, he gasped theatrically and held out his hands. He launched himself into tearful pleas and nearly hysterical begging for more time, for mercy. He knocked over his stool and crawled on his hands and knees on the stone pavers. Customers anxiously turned their heads and stared. Valia merely skewered him with a bored expression. She put a hand on her hip and waited for him to stop.

"All right, all right, already. Knock it off," she laughed. "Why do I put up with boys?" She shook her head. She laid the blaster on the front counter. "What's your poison today, Qui-Gon?" she asked, turning her attention to the welcome and mature calm of the Jedi at this end of the bar.

"I'm in the middle of Number 232," he answered.

Obi-Wan always got the impression that everything they said was a reference to some previous conversation.

"Obi-Wan, how about you? You want another bowl of that Ord Mantell melon?"

Brightening, he lifted his chin from where it rested in his cupped hand. "Sure." Since they were probably going to be here a while yet, he may as well eat. Lia always gave him extra big servings. And he seemed to always be hungry. She replaced his empty bowl with a heaping one.

Valia opened a small tool kit. She sat down on a stool on her side of the counter and proceeded to take apart the blaster. She worked for a few minutes while Qui-Gon closely watched her. She felt his blue gaze on her until she was nearly itchy. But it was not at all an unpleasant sensation. When she realized she'd been cleaning the same part for an entire minute, she slanted him a look without raising her head. She slid her eyes back to the blaster in her lap and smiled.

Here we go again, thought Obi-Wan.

"You're staring, Master Jinn," she said very pointedly and very softly.

"Was I? How rude of me. Forgive me. Perhaps you'd like to stare back," he invited, and smiled too. Though it still unnerved her to communicate so intimately, she took him up on his offer.

_You're especially beautiful today._

_Ha! This sounds like something I've heard way too many times. But thank you._

_You are. In every way. Don't you believe it?_

_I believe I don't want to get a swelled -up ego._

_That's not likely to happen._

_It might if you keep giving me all these flattering compliments._

_You 're quite worthy of them._

_I'm not...I don't have...I don't look like..._

_Silly little one. Wishing your hair was a different color. _

_Oh, get out of town!_

_So anxious for me to be gone?_

_No. Not really. Not at all. Never. _

Obi Wan watched them making eyes at each other, privately conversing. He wanted to leave, but he checked the urge and willed himself to mind his own business and be patient.

"I was wondering, when was the last time you fired that?" Qui-Gon inquired audibly about her blaster.

Valia shook the trance-like sensation out of her head. She seemed to think about what he'd asked her, then laughed. She apparently found something richly humorous about his question.

There was no way she was going to tell him she'd used it one night last month at an indoor shooting range. After quite a number of alcoholic drinks. Using slingshot-fired rotted teo fruits as the targets. She'd been gratified to see she could still hit a moving target, and found a fun use for wasted inventory. Her friends had told her she'd been quite entertaining. She answered him when she stopped her embarrassed laughter.

"Just last month. I know how to use it if I need to, if that's why you're asking. But I really don't care for handling firearms much. That's just one more way I don't fit in with most of my family. Besides fruit-growing, there is a Traxis passion for anything that can be aimed and fired." She squinted at a power cell, checking for corrosion. "The immediate family can boast of a few sharpshooters. A couple of snipers. And a few gun-smugglers and illegal arms dealers. But you didn't hear that from me." She affected a look of innocence as she rolled her eyes toward Qui-Gon. She snapped everything back together, and rose to make an entry into a data terminal to check off the maintenance.

"It looks like there's something caught in the barrel." Qui-Gon gestured toward the blaster lying on the counter.

Valia turned that storm-cloud look on him. "What?"

"Take a look."

She reached over and snatched it up. She closely examined it. "I don't see anything."

"Here. Let me have a look."

She brought it to him, wondering what he was talking about.

'Well, now. Here's the problem." He placed his fingers over the end of the muzzle of the blaster and withdrew a large, dark blue flower. He turned his hand so it rested open on his fingers. He held it out, offering it to her.

She just stared at it. Obi-Wan stared at it too, and then rolled his eyes. The rational part of Valia knew it was just a trickster's simple sleight of hand. She wondered where he had filched it from because it was nothing she had growing in any of the containers in front of the store. The non-rational part of her short-circuited, popped sparks, and melted. She tentatively reached out to take the fresh, nearly perfect bloom. A soft breath escaped her parted lips as their fingers grazed. She admired it for a few seconds, then flashed him a rakish grin and tucked it behind one ear. Her eyes had gone dark and smoky.

He was openly flirting with her, and she was encouraging him by enjoying every second of it. Obi-Wan looked on in disbelief, feeling like a reluctant voyeur. He'd never seen his master's head turned by a woman before. Now this. Why her? Why now? Why was he doing this? Obi-Wan liked Valia. That is, he really wanted to like her. She was kind and sweet and funny. And not too hard on the eyes, either. He supposed if Qui-Gon was going to fall for a woman, at least his taste was commendable. They really knew how to grow them right on Nyme' or wherever she was originally from. But what was her motive behind this?

At the end of every day, it was Qui-Gon's habit to ask his student one or more questions about something they had seen during the day. It could be about a person, conversation, or event. It was designed to keep him mindful and thinking about his immediate reality. Qui-Gon never asked him about anything to do with Lia. He knew this was his private business, but Obi-Wan would have had some ready answers on the subject for his master, if asked.

Everything he knew about his mentor or had heard from others told him that this entire episode from the day they had met her was just another form of vintage Qui-Gon Jinn behavior. He did as he saw fit, with his own agenda. An agenda he wasn't presently sharing with Obi-Wan. But a blind man could have seen what that was! Thoughts of sex crossed Obi-Wan's mind often enough. He knew it was natural and normal. But they remained passing thoughts, and had no influence on his behavior. He was determined to be a properly devoted Jedi. He firmly steered his mind away from the inevitable mental images of his master and Valia... going to bed? He inwardly closed his eyes against what he knew all too well what the outcome of this would probably be. Then what?

Qui-Gon had confided to him not long ago that he wasn't entirely at ease with the slow, small betrayals the crude matter of his body was beginning to show. Not that Obi-Wan could see. His master was strong of body and would only grow more powerful in mind, spirit, and oneness with the Force, but... Could that be what this whole thing was all about? Nothing more than a denial, a rebellion against age? Or was his master going soft in the head? What was the term he was looking for? Mid-life crisis.

He glanced at Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master very slowly stirred the sediment in the bottom of his juice glass with a long spoon, and took a slow drink. His eyes followed her as she went about her business behind the counter. Nothing short of a good thump on the head with Master Yoda's cane would have diverted his attention from her. He never gave any indication that his mind was on her when they were not here. But when they were here...his focus was nowhere else.

There was a whispered conversation going on at the other end of the bar. Obi-Wan caught the word 'midichlorians' but little else. Chuluk, Paccaia, Bracca and Ravi were clustered together. Lia gestured toward Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan with her head. "You can ask them. They'll answer you."

More low discussion.

"Well then, go ahead and keep arguing. But I don't think it's this big taboo subject," Valia said turning away from them.

Qui-Gon turned his attention to the young men at the far end of the counter and waited patiently for whatever question that was burning among them.

"Sir," Paccaia began. "We were just wondering. Do people who aren't Jedi knights have midichlorians in their bodies, too?" He nearly squirmed with potential hero-worship.

"Yes. Just not anywhere near as many. Everyone has at least a few."

Bracca mouthed 'see I told you so', and elbowed Paccaia.

"You both owe me fifty credits." A satisfied Ravi leaned back on his stool.

"I'll take the first installment on your debt now, Ravi." Valia was busy at a data terminal so she didn't see the sneer he gave in answer to her remark.

"Is it really true that they...tell you things? Speak to you?" Bracca asked.

Qui-Gon folded his hands and leaned forward. "To put it very simply, yes. They help speed our reflexes, telling us what will happen before it does. They connect us and all living things with the Force."

"They've been arguing among themselves for a week about that," Valia said, now frowning over a sticky lid on a container of extract. "I told them to just go to the authority and ask. They thought it was forbidden to ask about it or something."

"No question asked out of a search for knowledge should be forbidden."

Valia looked up from her cleaning. "So, do you have entire conversations between yourselves and your midichlorians?" There was a teasing sparkle in her eyes.

"It's not like that at all," said Obi-Wan.

"No, it's not. It's more of a one-way discourse. We don't tell them anything. We listen."

"And are they telling you anything right now?" Valia sensed she was pushing another flirt button, but she was curious to see what kind of answer he would give her.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and appeared to be deeply concentrated on something within himself. Then he opened them and gave her that soft look he gave no one else.

"They're not speaking at all."

"No?"

"No. They're singing."

Valia raised one eyebrow and leaned a hip against a preservation unit. "Singing?"

"Yes. They always do when I'm anywhere near you."

The hinges in Valia's jaws went loose. His face was completely straight as she searched it for some clue that this was just more dry humor. She clapped her mouth shut and glanced at Obi-Wan. The look on his face perfectly mirrored the one on her own. This was possibly the biggest piece of drivel either one of them had ever heard. In the last ten years, Valia had endured probably every come-on line made up by the male of several species; every tired fruit and juice-based sexual innuendo a clever customer could think up. But no one had ever told her his midichlorians sang for her. Qui-Gon studied the three-way battle as it played out on her face.

Well, come on, Traxis. Think of some smart-ass comeback for this one, her mind urged. This is pure sap.

I can't. I don't want to, her heart dribbled. I think he means it.

How high would I have to jump to be able to clear this counter to get to his side of it, her body wondered.

She started to speak once, then thought the better of it and stopped. It was really getting warm in here.

"Before you run to the walk-in cooler, can I please have a refill?" Qui-Gon slid his empty glass toward her. Obi-Wan began a mental mathematical exercise designed for patiently filling long waits.

Valia narrowed one eye and tightened her mouth at him in response to his smug prediction. She turned to a refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of 232. She poured for him and set it down on the counter with a thump.

"My, you are in rare form today, Master Jinn." She wasn't about to run now. "What an interesting curriculum you have designed for Obi-Wan. Does your padawan need lessons in flirting?" She smiled at Obi-Wan. He gave her a look in return that clearly said don't even drag me into this.

"Flirting? Is that what I was doing?" Qui-Gon asked innocently. "I really know nothing about the subject."

You know entirely too much, thought Obi-Wan.

"Qui-Gon, you've just set perfect examples of flirting."

Yes, thought Obi-Wan, perfect examples of things I shouldn't be doing.

Qui-Gon merely inclined his head and smiled at her.

"Hey Lia, you have time to show me how to calibrate the thermometers in the walk-in today?" Chuluk stuck his head out of the walk-in's door.

"Sure, Lukki, right now." Valia grabbed a light thermal vest from a peg near the walk-in.

She threw Qui-Gon and his singing midichlorians a last look over her shoulder as she disappeared into it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The carnival atmosphere in the plaza increased as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan made their way toward Valia's. The warm clear weather and the government holiday had drawn workers, students and tourists outside in hoards. The fruit and juice bar was doing a brisk business. Music pulsed from a small player someone had brought and placed in the outdoor eating area. A cluster of humans and Twi'leks gathered around a small hand-held screen watching a violent sport match. They shouted and punched the air with their fists. Someone was doodling a raunchy caricature of newly elected Supreme Chancellor Vallorum amid a heated political discussion. Beings stood, lay or sat everywhere, drinking and eating. There were no empty tables and even the tree was ringed with customers.

Qui-Gon paused at the edge of the crowd, Obi-Wan close behind him. They both preferred a far less crowded atmosphere. Qui-Gon didn't even see Lia, but he still scanned the bar for her. He knew she was there. Every other one of her staff was busy behind the counter and at the tables. Chuluk ducked to avoid a floater droid buzzing past with more orders and swore at it. Qui-Gon was about to suggest they just keep going when he spotted her at the far corner of the store, near the end of the counter, keeping out of the way. She still closely surveyed all the activity. She looked like she was taking a hurried break. The Jedi pushed through the crowd toward her. Conversations in a dozen languages dropped noticeably in volume at the passage of the two somberly clad knights. The would-be political cartoonist leaned forward over the table to cover his drawing. Obi-Wan shrugged inwardly as he followed his master. They were supposed to blend invisibly into crowds, but somehow they just weren't managing it here.

Valia saw them approaching at the same time she popped several small red fruits into her mouth. She waved at them. Her mouth was full, but her eyes were grinning at them. She was always happy to see them. Of course, thought Obi-Wan, more so for one of them in particular.

"Hi!" She greeted them enthusiastically. "What can I get you two today?"

"Nothing for me. Obi-Wan, did you want something?"

"No, it's a bit too crowded and noisy here today." And it was. But by not staying long, there would be less likelihood of flirtatious by-play to occur between his master and Lia.

"That was my thought as well," noted Qui-Gon. He leaned against the wall outside the very end of the counter. "We were on our way to catch a transport to the Senate building."

"Senate building? But it's a holiday. Oh wait, don't tell me. Jedi don't have holidays," Valia said, eating more fruit. The flesh of each one pulsed and writhed slowly under the skin. She cradled her dish in one arm and leaned against the wall on the other side of the counter from Qui-Gon.

"It doesn't look like you do, either," observed Qui-Gon nodding at the crowd without taking his eyes from her.

"No, not many," she said smiling up at him.

Before they could start making those eyes at each other, Obi-Wan intervened.

"Lia, I was wondering something."

She shifted her attention to him. "What's that, Obi-Wan?"

"About five years ago, I had a fruit on Bandomeer. It wasn't native, I know that. But it was so good. I don't know what it was called. Do you have a way to find out?"

Valia set down her bowl and pushed herself off the wall. She reached under the counter and brought forth a data pad. "Describe it."

So Obi-Wan did, answering her questions about size, color, taste, climate conditions and tree description. She tapped keys, bringing up pages from her exhaustive field guide to the screen, and searched her own memory.

"Sounds like it was Syryngian globe-fruit or maybe a hybrid of it. I can try to order some in, if you'd like. Then you'd know."

Obi-Wan considered this. It would be good to taste those again. That is, if it didn't go beyond the need to satisfy curiosity into greedy desire. Valia sensed what was behind his hesitation. "It's just food. You have to eat anyway, and I say why not enjoy it to the fullest? And besides, my other customers would get to try something new, too." Her eyes gleamed vivaciously. "And it is just a simple quest for knowledge isn't it?"

"Sure. Go ahead, if it's not too much trouble," agreed Obi-Wan.

The gleam in Valia's eyes turned sly. "A famous philosopher once said 'satisfaction is the end of desire'. Ha! What brain did it take to think that one up? That's common knowledge," she laughed. Her mood was exuberant. She briskly rubbed her hands together, returning to the keyboard. "Now..." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, cross-referencing for more information. She looked up which planets they were grown on, which wasn't many. "Hmmmm. I may have to pull some strings. Call in some favors." She was already thinking which freight pilots she could ask, which growers to network.

"Nothing illegal, I hope."

"Obi-Wan, you are so cute," Valia laughed merrily at him, marking the information and setting the device aside. "All strictly above table. For you, my favorite Jedi Padawan, it's no trouble at all."

He gave her a quick grin and moved away from the counter. The press of customers left little room to stand there.

Chuluk hustled his big body past Valia to the walk-in cooler. She hoisted herself up onto the counter to get out of his way.

"Everything under control out there, Lukki?"

"We got it covered, boss." He disappeared into the cooler and re-emerged with a large heavy carton. Valia took passing note of his snort of annoyance at the large tray of dirty drinkware someone had left on the front counter. He scooped it up and moved it to the counter against the back wall across from Valia. "I'll be back for that." Boss was a stickler for cleanliness, no matter how busy it got. Whistling, he continued around the corner and down the length of the bar.

Valia stayed perched where she was, separated from Qui-Gon only by the raised portion of the bar that fronted the store, just a few handwidths. She turned to look up at him. There was a good-natured twinkle in his blue eyes.

"And my favorite Jedi Master...how is he today?"

Qui-Gon smiled at her. She was one of the rare people who actually cared about the answer she got from a question like that, no matter what it was. Still, he didn't resist a juvenile urge to sidestep her.

"Master Yoda is very well, thank you."

She rolled her eyes.

Qui-Gon glanced around to check where Obi-Wan was. Right behind him, facing outward. Guarding his back. He gestured with his head toward the front of the store. Young humans, probably University students, were pushing tables and chairs aside to make an impromptu dance floor. "Are you sure that's only fruit juice they're drinking?"

"Qui-Gon, are you accusing me of spiking my wares with stimulants or alcohol?"

"Not at all. Maybe they brought their own and spiked it themselves."

A boisterous dance was now underway. The noise level was rising. Valia wasn't displeased with all the carrying on. Dancing made people hot and thirsty. She shook her head, smiling. As long as things didn't get out of hand, it was good for business.

"I think it's just the weather. You know what the first really warm days of the year do to people. Gets their juices flowing. So to speak."

Unfortunately, he did. But he didn't need warm weather to get his own juices flowing. He needed to stop making love to her with his eyes and get moving to that transport station. But she really was enchanting, sitting next to him. So small and delicate. Shimmering with life. Talking about desire, of all things. She was wearing those trousers again that displayed her curves without being indiscreet. A pair of ornamental suspenders crossed her breasts. A metal filigree adorned each strap, just above their fullness. There was a tiny spot of juice on the collar of her blouse. Right next to the bare skin of her neck. That smooth, soft skin. He wrestled his mind off her body, and various ways of undressing it starting with a finger slipped under each of those suspenders... and back to how to ask the question he had for her.

Valia shifted another glance over at him. For a man on his way somewhere else, he didn't appear to be in a hurry to get there. Obi-Wan stood behind him, apparently meditating on his feet. She was suddenly exasperated with the situation between them. For as intensely interested in each other as they were, little had actually happened. Had this been someone else, they might have gone out to eat, gone dancing, visited an indoor park, one of Galactic City's many zoos, a museum, her bed... She almost laughed out loud at the idea of asking this man to do some of these things. Then again, there had to be something better than this uncertain circling and flirting. Oh, but the flirting was fun. She quickly stopped this line of thought before it could go to other things she wanted to do with this large hunk of pure alpha male. She concentrated on the activity in front of the store. She didn't know if this was a good habit to cultivate, but she was learning to not think when she was around him, especially this close to him. Just certain stimulating thoughts.

"Lia, I have a question of my own for you." Qui-Gon's voice saved her from having to watch her mind.

She smiled indulgently at him. "What's that?" _Ask me anything. _

"How do you feel about babies and very small children?"

Anything but that.

The question had seemingly come out of nowhere. It was fortunate she was already sitting down because she would have needed something to lean against. She sat frozen, her eyes widening. All right, Traxis. Stay calm. There's probably a very logical reason behind his question. She realized her mouth was stuck on the first sound of the word 'What!' but nothing had come out. She slowly turned her head to look at him again. He was studying her closely, but that glint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable. She strongly suspected he enjoyed catching her off-guard and watching the results. Actually she really loved babies, adored them, but she wasn't going to directly answer this question. Finally in a voice as cool as one of the melons stored in her walk-in, she responded.

"Now, why do you ask that?"

Qui-Gon sensed her immediate urge to push him away from an old tender spot and withdraw. He pressed ahead. "You may have heard that all Jedi are taken from their birth parents before six months of age and brought to the temple."

"Yes," she said slowly, picking up more fruit and chewing thoughtfully. "I had heard that somewhere. Which incidentally, is one of the saddest things I have ever heard of."

Qui-Gon's forehead wrinkled. "Why do you think it's sad?"

"Why do I think it's sad? A little baby wrenched out of its mother's arms! I can't even imagine what the parents must feel like. It would be awful."

"It's really not like that. The birth parents always have the choice to keep the child, or give him or her up for Jedi life. Most consider it a great honor."

"How do you know what they feel?" Valia turned to face him, sitting cross-legged on the counter. She looked as though she was preparing for a debate. "Don't you wonder what your birth parents thought? Don't you ever think about your birth mother? Your history? Don't you ever want to know where they are, how they're doing or if they're even alive or dead?" She had a passionate light in her large gray eyes as she bombarded him with questions.

"I may have felt some stirrings of curiosity when I was eighteen or so, but no. I never think about it all now."

Valia regarded him almost sorrowfully. "You're not at all sad about completely missing the very existence of your parents?"

"How can I spend valuable time being sad about something I never knew? I am at peace with the matter."

Valia sighed deeply. Qui-Gon smiled. He saw them arguing about this for years to come.

She heard a familiar whoop and glanced out toward the crowd. She saw Ravi strutting his stuff, showing off some footwork in the middle of a group of young people.

"In regards to my original question, your feelings on the subject only tell me you'd be perfect for what I had in mind."

Valia stared at him, her eyes round.

"There are a large number of infants at the temple right now. There are also too few surrogates to help give basic care, and just hold them and interact with them. We take them from their parents to train them for a life as a Jedi, but we find they do much better if they aren't allowed to become touch-deprived. If you are interested, I can arrange for you to become a surrogate parent."

"Me?"

Qui-Gon leaned toward her. "Yes. You."

"But how...But I'm not a Jedi."

"That doesn't matter. There are lots of non-Jedi who volunteer their time. All it takes is a good heart and gentle hands."

Valia picked up more fruit and bit it, stopping its rhythmic contractions. She considered the idea. It sounded intriguing. Since she would never carry a child herself again without a lot of expensive medical technology, this might be an opportunity to be around babies. Provide a valuable service. But she also wondered if it would dredge up old hurts and regrets. Well, if she hadn't dealt with the adolescent mistake by now, it was probably time she did. Still, she hedged.

"What are we talking, here? Feeding, burping, holding, changing dirty diapers, the works?"

Qui-Gon laughed softly. "I suppose. I really don't know all the dirty details. It's the holding that's the most important part."

"Hmmm. I don't know. I'm pretty busy with the stores..." She had opened a second store the month before, and was now twice as busy.

"You don't have to decide anything right now. Just think about it. There's simply a need, and I believe you are the one to help fill it." He knew this was exactly the type of trivial matter that the Jedi Council would think far beneath his talents, and question why he was involving himself in it. Another ripple of consternation with his name on it would result, but he really didn't care. The seed of the idea had been planted in his mind the day she'd made an oblique reference to her infertility. He was absolutely certain it would be as enjoyable for her as it would be beneficial for the infants. He had to give this to her.

Valia laughed. "I really don't know much at all about babies. Or baby Jedi." She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with him. "I do much better feeding adults."

"I see that."

"Speaking of feeding, are you sure you don't want anything? Here I am eating in front of you." She gestured with her dish.

"No, thank you. But what are those?"

"These are Nymean freelas. Best in the galaxy. Want to try some? I'll share."

"I'm sure you would. You are that way." He gave the squirming fruit a doubtful glance.

"In fact, these are the best I've had in quite a few seasons. And I grew up on these."

"Did you really, now?"

"Absolutely. The house I grew up in is in the middle of a huge freela orchard. The flavors are incredible, complex. Once you get past the sensation of something moving in your mouth while you eat it." She supposed a lecture on titratable acidity, sugar content and flex-fibers would be lost on him. So, being the good pitchwoman for her homeworld crop she was, she picked one out of the bowl and in a completely impulsive gesture, offered it directly to his lips. He accepted it from her with the barest brush of contact with her fingers. She watched his face as he bit through it. She smiled at the shades of approval on his face as all the flavors she promised burst forth.

"Mmm. Yes. Very good."

"See, I told you," she purred. Emboldened by the roguish gleam in his eyes, she fed him another. "Too bad they're so deadly poisonous."

His eyebrow lifted and he stopped chewing for just a fraction of a second. "That would explain why you're eating so many yourself."

"Oh, didn't I mention only to Mon Calamarians?" She faked toward his mouth and at the last second popped it into her own, smiling impishly. She fed him another, deliberately brushing against his lips. "And some species tell wild stories about what a powerful aphrodisiac these are."

Both eyebrows lifted this time. "Is that so? And do you believe them?"

She gave him a smile more suited for a boudoir than an outdoor juice bar. "Maybe I do." Then she laughed, a low, husky sound. A little voice in her head warned her she was playing with fire, even as she put a freela between her teeth and offered it to him that way. He laughed and politely declined. She knew she shouldn't tease him or be disrespectful. But she was suddenly in a very playfully sexy mood and wanted to push the envelope. Maybe the warm weather had gotten to her, too. He didn't seem to mind this, and certainly wasn't stopping her. But that little voice was annoyingly insistent. She looked around, sure other customers would be watching. None were.

"Look at me, teasing you. I shouldn't play around with you like this. And I'm keeping you from your errand besides."

Qui-Gon Jinn simply smiled fondly at her for a long moment. "No one has teased me or played with me in a long, long time."

Valia raised her eyebrows, then irrationally wondered who had been the last one to tease or play with the Jedi Master, and why, and how.

"But you are right. You shouldn't," he said softly, leaning toward her face. "And I shouldn't tease you." She leaned toward him too, mostly to hear him above the din of the crowd but also because of the magnetic pull of those soft, dark blue eyes. She could almost feel his breath as he spoke. "But the torment of it is, I...enjoy it far too much."

Torment. The word was appropriate. It seemed to hang in the air between them. The words to tell her he loved her were nearly on his lips when he firmly pulled back. No. Now was not the time. And what would she say or do? He wasn't sure which frightened, yes, frightened him more, the possibility that she might blow him off, or that she would feel the same way. Of every danger, enemy, personal challenge or sticky political situation he had faced in his life, he had nothing to quite compare with this. He wondered for the hundredth time how it was he could feel so much like a confused, besotted teen-aged boy inside when he looked into her eyes. The attention she was giving him was melting his insides in ways he hadn't felt in...well, he'd never felt this way in his life. He'd known for some time she physically wanted him, and was shocked all over again by the notion. It was dangerously flattering.

Valia dropped her gaze down to the dish in her lap and sighed. "I...Well, I ...yes, I enjoy it as well." She peered up at him through her bangs. "Like you say, maybe too much." She thought she heard her name being called. It sounded like Ravi. She suddenly resented being surrounded by what seemed like thousands of noisy people.

_I want to go somewhere alone with you. _

A look of gladness then regret flickered in his eyes. Did she imagine it or did the back of his hand glide across her cheek?

_Not wise. _

_Why? _

Before he could answer, she was distracted again by someone calling her name.

There was Ravi in the crowd. He looked right at her without seeing her. In fact, no one at all seemed to see her and Qui-Gon.Only half aware she had done so, she had placed her hand on his. She was startled to see it there and would have drawn it away, but he turned his big wrist and gently held it, partially inside the sleeve of his tunic. To cover her shock and the crazy joy that jolted through her, she reverted to teasing.

"What have you got up your sleeve today, Master Jinn?"

He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Sadly, he'd picked no flowers for her today. He thought of leading her to some secluded corner in one of the Temple gardens and showing her all manner of blooming things. "Just my hand," he answered. And his heart. Surely she would hear it trying to pound its way out of his chest so it could flop at her feet like an offering.

They decided at the same instant this needed to end. For now. With a final caress, Qui-Gon let Valia have her hand back. She cleared her throat. "All right. One more freela because I won't have anyone leaving here hungry or thirsty, and then you'd better be on your way. And it's back to work for me."

"Those are most sensible ideas, Miss Traxis."

So when she lifted the fruit to his lips, the last thing she expected was for him to take two of her fingers in his mouth along with it. It was a move as impulsive as her own had been. The sensations that flooded her nerves swept away all sensible ideas or wisdom. She felt the light flicking caress of his tongue against her fingers. Warm. So warm. She closed her throat over the low moan that threatened to escape. Part of her had suspected, but now there was no doubt that the physical desire was mutual. Not hers alone. She lightly trailed her fingers across his lower lip and the crisp hair of his short beard, savoring the feel of him. What store? What customers? The rest of the universe had dissolved away around him, this man who had at some point pledged to desire nothing physical, yet desired her. He'd never taken his eyes from hers. She'd caught the briefest 'I can't believe I did that' expression in them, quickly followed by a flash of fire, and then that roguish sparkle. He chewed slowly, a bemused expression on his face.

Valia glimpsed Obi-Wan over Qui-Gon's shoulder. He had turned around and was wearing a puzzled expression as he took in the two of them. She pulled her hand back from where it was suspended in the air. She quickly glanced around, sure that everyone in the entire area was staring at her and Qui-Gon. To her shocked relief, everyone was oblivious to them. They continued to eat, drink, laugh and talk. No one had noticed a little thing like the bar owner's libido going supernova in their midst. The heat that had bloomed between her thighs exploded upward and flushed her forehead.

Obi-Wan had literally and figuratively turned his back on the discourse between Lia and his master. Now he was plagued by that voyeuristic feeling again. Her face was that of a woman in an erotic painting he'd seen once. Now what had happened to bring on that expression? What was he doing, eating out of her hand now? He'd been patiently waiting, musing on the future when he had been rudely jerked into the here and now by a jolt of pure emotional current. For the first time, he found himself wishing the apprentice-master bond between himself and Qui-Gon was not so strong. Standing this close to him, it had been a conduit for something he wanted no part of. He felt vaguely like he'd been electrocuted. The sexual tension between Qui-Gon and Lia was setting his teeth on edge. It was monstrous, dark and sultry. And he was a fool to get in the way of it. The wildly impractical idea of locking both of them in Lia's walk-in cooler for several hours crossed his mind. Cool them both off. Or see what they would do to keep warm.End this discordant wanting, needing.

Composing herself, Valia rubbed the back of her neck. She mustered a weak but raffish grin. "Who's teasing who, now?"

Qui-Gon was not so distracted that he didn't see what was about to happen next. In fact his senses seemed to have sharpened. Before the first brush of apron fabric against the corner of the glassware tray told him. Perhaps long before that, the determined stride of the server Drre as she moved toward the walk-in. Perhaps just because it would be so crashingly appropriate.Her hip nudged the corner of the tray as she moved behind Lia and turned it just enough to up-end the entire thing and send it sliding over the edge of the counter. He reflexively held up a hand to summon the Force to stop the tray. It did, but part of its contents still slid into a spectacularly loud and messy wreck on the floor.

There was a second of total silence after the last piece of glass had shattered and the final drop of juice had splattered. Then the place erupted in noisy cheers, hoots and clapping. The din resumed, even louder than before. A mortified Drre had her hands over her blue-skinned face and was apologizing. Chuluk came barreling around the corner and took in the scene. "Sorry, Boss." He and Drre began picking up the mess. A hover-droid, attracted by the sound of breaking drinkware buzzed into the area as well. Valia sat rooted to the counter watching as if from light-years away. She'd nearly jumped out of her skin. She heard her name again. Go away. She looked toward the shouting. Ravi, hands on his hips, a devilish smirk curling his lips. He jerked his head in a 'come here' motion.

"Traxis! Dance with me!"

Valia sighed. Of course. He would want to dance right now. Though she wanted to, she couldn't really leave her spot. Broken glass, sticky liquid and bickering employees blocked the only way out. She still had enough adrenaline pumping through her that she probably could have flown right over the counter and halfway across the plaza. She distractedly reassured Drre and pulled herself back to reality. Of anyone standing nearby, she noticed only Qui-Gon wore an expression of placid calm as if nothing at all had happened. Even Obi-Wan looked slightly blanched as if his nerves were jangled, too.

Qui-Gon stepped back and held out his arms toward her. Not comprehending at first, Valia stared at him. Every molecule of her seemed to cry out at the rightness of the sight. He gestured toward himself with his fingers and waited. Oh. I see, she thought dully. To help me over the counter. She rose and climbed toward the offered escape route.

His grasp was gentle and very politely placed around her ribcage. She lightly placed her hands on his broad shoulders. All she would have to do is slide them around his neck and mane of hair and fit herself against him. For just a second Valia thought or hoped he would wrap his arms all the way around her and lustily crush her to him. She imagined them locked in a plundering kiss. None of this happened, however and he set her on her feet outside the storefront. His hands stayed on her no longer than necessary, and he stepped back.

"Hey Lia! We're wasting good music!"

Qui-Gon looked down at her, a faint smile on his face. She'd seen that fire in his eyes again before he quickly banked it.

"I know, I really need to beat some respect out of that boy."

"Be gentle. Off with you, then." Qui-Gon gestured toward the waiting Ravi. "You'll think about what I asked?"

"I'll think about it." There were moons and stars shining in her eyes before she dropped her eyes away from his face. Then there was nothing else to do but thank him. He gave her a polite bow with his head. The gesture was a laughable contrast to the potent man-woman thing that had just flashed between them.

Qui-Gon watched Ravi's smile spread into an impudent grin as Lia approached him. "I did **not** spill that..." The beginning of her indignant protest clearly reached his ears above the crowd. Ravi put an arm around her and spoke something in her ear as he guided her to the cleared area. Whatever it was earned him a sharp pinch in the side.

The two Jedi paused long enough to watch them smoothly move into lockstep with each other. The words to the song were in a tongue neither of them understood, but the rhythm was distinct, ancient, and suggestive. No longer boyish or playing the buffoon, Ravi expertly led Valia. It was obvious they had danced together many times before. They moved together sinuously, their footwork precise and practiced. The metal ornaments on their boots flashed in the sunlight. Valia joyously threw herself into the dance, work briefly forgotten. If she couldn't give herself to _him,_ she'd give herself to this. She could still feel where his hands had been on her. She flung her head back on the turns, causing more strands of hair to loosen and twist free from its thick knot. Becoming warm, she reached up to loosen the top of her blouse and shake it open. She spread it wantonly, to several approving cheers from onlookers. Ravi's eyes widened, then he grinned. He wasn't such a fool that he couldn't recognize her misdirected passion when he saw it. He also wasn't going to miss an opportunity to thoroughly enjoy it. He made wild animal noises at her, encouraging her. "Yeah, mama, dance fierce for me...!" Her eyes sparkled, and her lips previously parted in a 'ravish me' expression closed in a wicked smirk.

This time it was Qui-Gon urging Obi-Wan away and onward to their destination. Obi-Wan had caught himself staring. He'd had no idea she or her friend could move like that. Those supple moves for no other purpose than...fun. Ravi's exuberant howl drifted over their shoulders as they quickly slipped away from the crowd.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The group of six climbers limbered up on a plaza on the south side of a mountainous building, which was set apart from the jumble of skyscrapers. Ravi passed out parachute packs and helmets to everyone. He nudged a distracted-looking Valia. "Hey. You with us?" he asked softly. She flashed him a quick grin. "Let's do it!" he whooped to everyone in general and leaped to the first ledge on the wall next to him.

The dubious sport of building climbing was as popular on Coruscant as mountain climbing was on other worlds. All Coruscanti had to climb were buildings, and over the past several hundred years, the sport had exploded. Over the course of her life on Coruscant, Valia had made the acquaintance and friendship of dozens of climbers. Early on they had persuaded her to join them. She had finally given in to her sense of adventure and joined them on several easy climbs.

She'd been hooked. She felt like she was twelve again, running wild with her brothers and cousins on Nyme'. They'd climbed the tallest trees, gorges, silos, anything that presented a challenge and more dismay to the more responsible, older generation. So it was that now as an adult, she found herself enjoying a beautiful sunny midmorning on her tenth climb.

"Come on, Traxis! Sluggard! After we kiss the sky, I'll let you kiss me!" Ravi screeched from somewhere above. Valia smiled and rolled her eyes. There'd be no end to the teasing if she didn't keep up with him. But then there'd be no end to the teasing anyway. A couple of their more quiet friends grinned at Valia, and they continued climbing.

Sometime later, they reached roughly the halfway point. They rested on a balcony several thousand meters above what passed for ground level on Coruscant, if anyone really knew where that was any more. The view was spectacular. They savored the knowledge that they'd used nothing more than their own muscles and stamina to get here. They were nearly up to traffic level. A police cruiser passed their rest stop with a sing-song humming. Paccaia waved amiably at its occupants. Ravi's eyes followed the vehicle with avid interest.

"Don't you dare flip them a finger, Brillion," Valia warned. Or moon them, like another time.

"No need. They haven't hassled us. I'll be saving that for the top, anyway."

"Are you sure they haven't passed any anti-climbing ordinances since the last time we were up here?"

"You worry way too much, Lia." Ravi waved a hand, and leaned back indolently to soak up the warm sunlight. "Not that I know of. They just can't ban this building. This is the best in this hemisphere."

"Yeah, no bans yet. But someone will get them passed as soon as they get annoyed with us for looking in their windows!" Paccaia raised his voice to a shout to catch the attention of Bracca who was standing against the glass of the nearby windows. He shaded his eyes as he peered in.

"Always hoping to see what he can't get himself, the little voyeur," laughed Ravi.

"Aahh, it's just offices. Nobody there." Bracca turned away. Nobody let Bracca off the hook about his everlasting hope of catching another glimpse into the private lives of unsuspecting apartment dwellers. It had happened on a climb before Valia had joined the group. It was told Bracca had nearly fallen off the wall at the unexpected sight of the full-blown multi-species orgy taking place inside an apartment. Then he had wanted to get inside the building and join it. Not long afterwards, that building had been placed on the list of structures banned to climbers. That list was growing every year, and the challenge of climbing without being arrested was growing as well. For young thrill-seekers who could not afford to make constant trips off world for climbing, this was one of the best outlets available.

"Well, let's keep moving. We're wasting daylight." Ravi, the unofficial leader of the group stretched and stood. The others stretched as well, and prepared to ascend the rest of the way. Valia took another look at the cityscape shining in the afternoon sun.

She was dressed similarly to the other climbers. Her hair was bound up in its customary loose knot under a helmet. Her knees and elbows were covered with light padding. Close-fitting black knee length pants and a sleeveless blue top kept her cool. Her heavy mid-calf boots were equipped with rubber traction cups and powerful magnets that could be activated if necessary. There were magnets on the wrists of some of the climbers as well. Lines of thin, strong cord and grappling hooks were looped over her shoulder. They climbed without repulsor jets. Only the parachutes or lines would save them from a free fall.

The afternoon wore on. The climbers passed each other by turns, taking short breaks for water and food from their packs. Ravi knew the best routes up this building, which walls had the best surfaces for climbing, the most outcroppings. They planned to make a late afternoon jump from the top. All the climbers carried commlinks, which they used to talk to each other, and in case they got separated or in trouble. They could also be used to summon transport if they decided against jumping.

This would be Valia's tenth such jump. She loved the sensation of flying, coasting past the spires of buildings, wind rushing against her skin.

At last they reached the top, their artificial mountain gleaming in the golden late afternoon sun. Tired but triumphant, they danced on the flat top, Ravi shouting and whooping incessantly. He hoped for a transport or better yet, police car to pass close enough to see his special salute. Thankfully, none did.

"Going to jump, Lia?" Bracca asked, readying himself for flight.

"Oh yeah, I'm going to go for it."

"Great. See you below, at the plaza we started from."

"See you there." She was already fighting down the fluttering in her stomach. She was always terrified until she was actually in the air. Then she could relax. Bracca, Paccaia and Ravi leaped first, Ravi naturally with a banshee scream. Valia watched their chutes pop open, her friends descending beneath colorful flowers of light strong fabric. They steered in a graceful curve around the building. She stepped the ledge herself. It overlooked a deep slot cut into the side of the building. The next level was so far down they had enough seconds to deploy their chutes before hitting the building. It always seemed to work better if she just got it over with without thinking too much about it. Besides the other two climbers were waiting. Benk, the oldest member of the group smiled at her. His long gray hair was tied back in a tail. It reminded her of Qui-Gon. What hadn't reminded her of Qui-Gon all day long? She'd found herself thinking of him innumerable times throughout the climb. Him and his tongue against her fingers and the way he'd looked at her the other day... She tried to clear her head as she looked down at her blue and yellow-laced boots and the abyss beyond her toes. She couldn't get him out of her mind. She wondered what his reaction would be to her doing this. Probably his face would go all stern and serious and he'd admonish her to be wise and not do this.

It was time to jump. She had no idea what Qui-Gon's take on building climbing was, and was not likely to find out. But she knew that sometime soon they were going to have to talk and confront what was between them. Next time she saw him. On that thought, she launched herself into the sun-warmed air.

She counted, her eyes screwed shut. Then she yanked the cord she'd had clutched in her hand the whole time. With a flapping rush, the ultralight metal and silk fabric unfurled from her pack and jerked her fall to a near stop.

She opened her eyes and knew immediately that something was wrong. Her field of view twirled crazily and she was dropping faster than she ought to be. A sudden gust of air blew her toward the building and she struck a decorative ledge with her leg so hard she knew it had to be broken. She was sure she'd heard something snap over the rush of air. Her head swam sickeningly from the pain, shock and the spinning. She felt herself blacking out and desperately tried to keep conscious. That was the last thing she could afford to do at the moment. Trying to ignore the pain in her leg, she looked up and saw the left edge of her chute wasn't completely unrolled. It seemed to be wrapped in one of the lines. She jerked on it, trying to free it. No success. She realized she had little or no steering control, and it was going to take all her ability to watch where she was going. Thoughts of desperately crashing through a window to stop her fall flashed through her mind, but that was likely to break many more parts of her, if not kill her.

She was passing close to a sheer wall of transparisteel. She stuck her arms and one good leg out against it, trying to drag herself to a halt using the suction cups. She more or less succeeding in jamming them against it. But she would have to hang there upside down. She didn't have the strength to remain upright against the polished wall and the pain was clouding her consciousness. Her chute fluttered down toward her. She was forced to pull free and continue falling. By now she was breathing hard with terror and completely disoriented. What were Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan always saying about mastering fear, remaining calm and centered? Empty far-away words to her now. They'd made sense under the safe shade of the awning in front of her store. What she needed to save her ass now were whole limbs and a functioning parachute.

She saw a causeway linking two buildings. It was lit up by the sun in stark contrast to the dark canyon beyond it. Three white birds winged their way below the causeway. People strolled along the causeway, outer cloaks lifting softly in the breeze. A woman wore a beautifully patterned maroon and black gown. Valia was conscious of curiously sharpened details as she whirled downward despite her tunneling vision and the specks that danced before it. She was on a direct collision course with the causeway. She tried to relax her frantic breathing and readied her hands to grab a railing or lamppost. It was coming at her too fast. She reached out and missed. The shock on the faces of passers-by mirrored her own as the breeze whirled her over and beyond the bridge. People stopped and stared at the stared at the strange, colorful object flying away into the canyon.

Valia moaned and let loose screaming curses. She had to find something else to grab. She was going deeper into the city's lower levels. She tried again to make the parachute obey her futile tugging on the lines. All this did was put her into a tighter spin. She was now at levels she had never been before, and in seconds she'd be where no Coruscanti wanted to go. The breeze funneled between the buildings, keeping her moving, dropping her into ever cooler air. It was getting darker. She passed out.

Rumors and urban legends about the underworld of Coruscant had made their way to Valia's ears since she'd first arrived here. The stories all carried the same theme: don't go there. Those who fell or wandered below civilized levels generally did not return at all, or in any recognizable form. Rare was the tale of a survivor. No one had really catalogued the life forms on the planet surface, entombed by the city above. In addition to some very real monsters was the sewage, waste fuel and dumped machinery that fell or was illegally thrown from above. It was a toxic, dangerous hazard below the feet of every Coruscanti. With predictable regularity the issue would come up before the planetary government and even the galactic Senate. What should be done about it, and more importantly, who would pay to deal with it. Debates droned on endlessly about jurisdiction, funding, studies to be done, and on and on. Inevitably nothing was done.

Valia was now below any recognizable city level. The walls were closing in on either side of her. She regained consciousness and weakly reached out for one of them but only banged her arm. A dank smell was rising from below. Her limbs were throbbing now and when she finally did manage to grab a ledge, the pain forced her to let go and slip off again. Any climbing out she would have to do would be made extremely difficult by her injuries. She tried to grab at the wall next to her again. She grimaced at the mucous-like sliminess on it. Her boots and hands skidded ineffectually all over the slippery algae-covered wall. The magnets in her boots did nothing. It seemed to be a stone wall. She slid deeper into the dark crevice, her parachute now brushing both walls. The smell was growing overpowering and she thought she heard water. She dropped the final distance and fell heavily into the sludge-filled bottom of the canyon. Her ankle twisted sharply on some piece of debris under the brown bilge and she cried out. She splashed down on her hands and knees in the filth and her chute flopped down on top of her.

The shock of not moving stunned her. She then stood up carefully feeling for her footing in the calf-deep water. She quickly gathered up the useless chute with the thought of at least keeping it dry. She struggled out of her harness and bundled up the fabric into a roll. There was a small ledge about eye-level and she stowed it there along with her gear and helmet. She took note of her dismal surroundings, trying not to think of what else was down here. It was so dark she could barely see. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she saw the narrow crevice, probably once an alley or street stretched away on either side of her. The walls were slimy stone, and with her broken leg, climbing out was not looking like an option. A square black opening dominated the opposite wall down from her. Fallen pipes and junk lay scattered about, covered with the same stinking slime and hanging gobs of ooze. The water was a cloudy brown covered with an oily sheen of fuel. She shuddered at the thought of how many bacteria must be in it.

She listened and only heard her own breathing and a faraway dripping. She waded over to the ledge and took inventory. She emptied the pack. She had one bottle of water, three energy bars, a bandanna, and the commlink. The commlink! She grabbed it and activated it. She tried several times to talk to the rest of the climbing group. Nothing. Frustrated, she checked it over. The indicator for outgoing signals never lit up. Possibly she was too far down between the colossal structures for it to be any use. In any case, it wasn't working. She made a huff of disgust. Part of the creed of the group of climbers she was with was a disdain of anything high-tech to assist them. Here they were, able to travel from one end of the galaxy to the other, defeat distance, gravity, disease and disability but there was a rebellious clinging to low-tech forms of amusement. She couldn't really be too disgusted as she adhered to this creed in her everyday life.

However, it was now proving to be her undoing. She leaned against the wall, trying to support her most likely broken leg, stymied as to what to do. She could start painfully slogging through the muck to find a way out, and risk hurting herself even further. Or she could stay put and hope against hope someone friendly to her cause would find her.

Before she could weigh the decision any further, something slimy brushed against her right leg. Startled, she lifted it out of the water. Something ripped into her left leg with a speed that swallowed her breath. She screamed as white stars of pain exploded before her field of vision. She danced frantically in the sludge, flinging off whatever had locked onto her calf. A thick, pale slimy creature about a meter long was thrown against the opposite wall. Its mouth was concentric rings of sucking, pulsing flesh. Hooked teeth flexed out of every ring. Moaning, she scrabbled to the ledge she'd previously thought too small for her. Clenching her teeth against the pain of her injured limbs, she balanced on the narrow ledge. Comfort was out of the question, yet she'd probably be waiting here a long time. She crouched and tried to stop hyperventilating. She deliberately made herself slow her breathing. The spots in front of her eyes gradually cleared. The water still roiled with whatever was swimming in it. At last it stilled. Valia gradually became aware of a new noise down the corridor. Sounds of something furtively swimming toward her. She backed against the wall and tried to be brave.

The serene stone hallways did nothing to calm Ravi and Paccaia's frazzled nerves as they stood in the entrance to the Jedi Temple. The two sweaty sport-garbed young men felt acutely out of place. Their tight fitting brilliantly colored climbing clothes brayed loudly in contrast to the completely covering brown shades of the Jedi students and knights. They were being treated politely, even warmly, but the waiting was now driving Ravi to madness.

Between the five of them, they had managed to come up with the names of the two Jedi who they'd seen at Valia's store so often. Someone had been sent to locate Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi a half-hour ago, and still they waited. Ravi picked nervously at his fingernails.

They had waited for Valia at the plaza and she had never landed. Then Brea and Benk had arrived, asking about her, telling what they'd seen happen with her chute from above. Police had been called and were now fanning out for the search, but Ravi had gotten the distinct impression it would be a most casual operation. Until she was missing for a certain period of time, there was little they would do. The officers had reassured them that she'd probably just lost her way and would show up on her own very soon. The chief officer had looked the climbers up and down with undisguised contempt. It was the lecture that followed that tripped Ravi's temper and launched him at the officer. Only Benk and Bracca's brute strength, threats to kill Ravi, and obsequious apologies had kept them all from being arrested on the spot. With promises to never climb in this jurisdiction as long as they all lived, the climbers backed out of the police station. Frantically worried and unsatisfied with the intensity of the search, they had concluded more help was needed. Ravi's father was off world on a property-buying trip and unreachable for the sums of money Ravi could have gotten for a desperate bribe.

Would the Jedi help them? Would they grant a personal favor to a half-dozen people they knew by sight and name only? Ravi fervently hoped he was right about the Jedi Master's 'thing' for Lia and was now banking on it. His stunted sense of personal responsibility and guilt were kicking in. He loved Lia, even sometimes had fantasies of one day marrying her. But he knew she was not for him, not that way. She needed someone who could give her things he never could. But a guy could still dream. Sensible and cautious, Lia had had to be coaxed into climbing with them. Once she had done it, she was totally into it, but Ravi suspected she wouldn't be doing it on her own.

"Good evening. What seems to be the trouble?" A deep, slightly accented voice spoke behind them. The two young men jumped and turned to see Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan standing placidly behind them.

"It's Valia. She's missing. We jumped off the top of the Montikka building and she had trouble with her chute," Ravi blurted out.

An expression of concern furrowed Qui-Gon's face at the mention of Valia's name. A look of disbelief crossed Obi-Wan's. "You jumped off a building?"

Ravi had no further desire to defend the sport of base-jumping today. Besides, even he knew it was not a good idea to cross Jedi Knights. He looked down at the floor, chagrined. "We usually do after a climb. Sometimes we get picked up if we're too tired."

"Well, never mind about that now. Come along and show us where you last saw her. We will find her." Qui-Gon laid a hand on each man's shoulder and guided them out toward the plaza. "Obi-Wan, go get anything you think we might need. Meet us outside here." The complete lack of worry and hurry in Qui-Gon relaxed Ravi and Paccaia as they walked out into the mellowing afternoon light.

Where Ravi and his friends had run into a solid wall of bureaucracy and apathy, the Jedi strolled through effortlessly. The police handling the search in and around the Montikka building immediately called in more staff and deployed another dozen searching hovercraft as well as two probe droids. Qui-Gon's questions were answered promptly and if the answer wasn't known, someone was sent to find it. The Jedi never raised their voices, never appeared worried or rushed in any way. They were treated deferentially and respectfully, most particularly by the chief officer Ravi had had his trouble with. Ravi couldn't help but roll his eyes disgustedly at the manner in which the officer was nearly fawning before Qui-Gon and his padawan.

After it was determined Valia was nowhere in the building or on its surface, it was time to widen the search. "Do you think she may have fallen all the way to the bottom, Master?" asked Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon turned from his silent, pensive study out the window to look at Obi-Wan. There was now clearly worry in his dark blue eyes. Half a dozen terrible scenarios had gone through his mind before he firmly dismissed them with calming techniques, concentrating on what they knew to be fact.

"That is a possibility. We'll have to find a way to search as far down as we can." He turned to the chief officer, whose name was Gagnonn. "Is there someone who knows the lowest levels of the city surrounding the building?"

Gagnonn's eyes widened. This was the first time he had hesitated at any request the tall Jedi had made.

"Not even the police go to those levels of the city, Master Jinn." He laughed and blustered. "There is no need for anyone to know the bottom. Whatever is down there that would be a danger to the citizens most likely would not survive outside its environment. And the...residents of the underworld have a way of keeping themselves in check for us."

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. The very air seemed to freeze. Hands on his hips, he took one, then another slow step forward. The police chief swallowed and shrank backwards.

"We have someone who at this moment may be out of _her _environment And if she is not found very shortly, she will cease to be your problem, and I will take her place." He spoke very softly, so softly that Obi-Wan knew he was controlling a rare fury. "Please locate whoever has knowledge of this area and its lowest levels. We will go find her ourselves."

Gagnonn stammered and spoke to the floor. Yes, there was a civil engineer he could call, yes, that was it, that's who could help them.

Ravi could not resist giving Gagnonn a derisive sneer and wave has he hurried out of the chamber.

Valia could not remember being so cold in all her life. There was no way to get warm except by huddling in her damp parachute. She squatted or lay awkwardly on the ledge, continuously shifting to keep her legs from falling asleep. Her ankle was stiff and hurt sharply. Her leg was swelling and stiffening and her arms throbbed. The bite on her other leg burned like madness and would not stop bleeding. She gripped the piece of metal pipe with both hands, fearful of dropping it. She'd risked one more painful dash into the water to grab a weapon. There had been things, rubbery things slithering through the water and reaching up to her. She'd stabbed the bar at them. The metal had sunk wetly into the flesh of whatever was grasping up at her. Thankfully they seemed easily frightened and had retreated...for the time being. What if there were dianogas down here? She would never escape one of those. Valia's overstretched senses had detected more movement coming from the cavelike opening. Now she wondered if she was beginning to hallucinate. Wispy ghost-like tendrils of blue and green gas appeared at the corners of her vision and disappeared. At least the smell had just about vanished. Her nose had probably just given up. She'd finished her water and had decided to hoard her last two energy bars. She'd caught herself nodding off to sleep but snapped herself back to wakefulness. She was in terror of falling off the ledge and being caught by those grasping things in the water. She wondered if this was how it would end, if she would end up being compost at the roots of the city. She tried to master her fear the way she knew Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan must know how to do, but it was too abstract a concept. Fear filled her, was splashed on her, was all around her.

"How long do you suppose it's been since this place saw the light of day, Master?"

Qui-Gon considered the question as they slogged through the gloom. "Who knows. A thousand years, maybe."

With the help of an extremely ancient and cranky civil engineer, the two Jedi had found long unused passages down into the depths and finally a hatch, which opened into the gap between buildings. The filth and stench were nearly overwhelming. Daylight was now fading, not that it made much difference down here anyway.

Obi-Wan sighed. "This is slow going. It would have helped if we had more eyes and ears to search here." The police had refused to accompany them, quoting regulations and bureaucratic babble. Gagnonn had very subtly hinted that for a price, more help could be had. Qui-Gon had tuned it all out, focusing his mind on Valia and the coming search.

"Stop, Obi-Wan. I want you to listen with your mind and feel very carefully. Do you sense her?"

They paused between the dripping walls, breathing as shallowly as they could. Obi-Wan wondered at the request. Ever the patient teacher, Qui-Gon was giving exercises even in this cess pit.

"But Master," he hesitated. "You are the one who...you are much closer to her than I am. Shouldn't you sense her far more than I?"

Qui-Gon leaned almost wearily against a wall. Obi-Wan studied his master in the darkness. He suddenly had an idea of the grief that would consume him if what they found wasn't a living, breathing Valia.

"I love her." The statement was made as though it was a terrible confession, as if he'd admitted to secretly studying Sith writings. There was a touch of amazement in it as well.

Obi-Wan stared. Of course. It all made sense. What an idiot he'd been. Qui-Gon was never one to do anything halfway with his heart, all the while acting as unemotional as a machine. This was not just some casual physical dalliance, and he wasn't losing his mind. There he stood in calf-deep dreck, speaking of love. He wanted to laugh, but the gravity of the situation and the look on his master's face stopped him. For a long moment he stared straight ahead at the damp wall, trying to comprehend what this meant as a Jedi. Then he thought of the dear friend, the father figure next to him, and his closed tight-lipped smile threatened to crack his face wide open. Qui-Gon regarded him curiously.

"Well," his student managed to speak finally. "That certainly has to be the most terrible thing you've ever done." He hoisted his cloak out of the muck. "Congratulations, Master. You're a human being."

Qui-Gon gave him a wry look, and that short, one-note laugh of his. Although this was surely going to add a new dimension of interest and challenge in being his apprentice, Obi-Wan reached out to squeeze his arms to reassure him she would be found, and his loyalty to him was unwavering, no matter what happened. Then he closed his eyes and shut out every intruding sensation one by one. He spent a minute focusing, searching. In the process, he experienced a renewed sense of calm and confidence. He opened his eyes.

"Misery. I sense misery, fear, jealousy of the world above. Nothing evil or threatening. And just the faintest cry of someone who doesn't belong here. Almost more like a heartbeat." He paused thoughtfully, looking down the passage. "That way. She's here. She's not far."

Qui-Gon smiled with relief. "I felt her, but I...wanted to be sure. She's in much pain." And so was he. He had been listening with his heart. He started in the indicated direction. "Let's get her out of here."

Valia was shaking uncontrollably now. The flimsy chute was no protection from the damp, chill air. All the light was gone now except for the phantom illusions that swam in front of her eyes. Her arms ached with the tension of holding the pipe to defend herself, should one of those phantoms prove to be solid.

A bluish glow was coming from the left. It didn't vanish like the other lights. What new terror was this? Or was it possibly help? Now she heard heavy sloshing footsteps. Friend or foe? Fully awake now and trembling with fear, Valia watched and waited. Two large forms materialized out of the dark. Obi-Wan held his lightsaber over his head like a torch. Qui-Gon was behind him. Now she was sure she was hallucinating. The ones she'd most desired to see had been conjured before her by her pain and cold-befuddled mind. They wore expressions of relief.

"Well, now. Here's a very pretty piece of flotsam." Obi-Wan stood before her.

What! Here she was cold and broken and miserable, and he was basically calling her garbage. Smart-ass! She scowled at his calm, smiling face. Still not quite certain he was real, she let the spurt of anger at him and her situation surface. She swung the pipe at his head. He easily ducked it.

"She seems to have gotten a bit paranoid down here." Obi-Wan quipped.

Qui-Gon shot him a look, and began to assess how badly she was hurt and what her state of mind was. "There may be a good reason." He looked around warily.

Valia opened her mouth to tell them she was glad to see them, if they were real, and to watch out for the suckers and slithery things in the water. But her teeth chattered so badly and she was so weak, nothing but soft nonsense came out. She tried again. It was so important that they know! Her voice rose in pitch with her desperation to communicate. There was danger in the water, this was all a silly accident. She peeled her lips back in a snarl and shifted her feet to be ready to swing the pipe if necessary. She slipped off the ledge and fell forward. Qui-Gon made a quick lunge and caught her before she could tumble into the ooze. She cried out in pain.

"Lia!" an agonized Qui-Gon gasped. He half set her down and bent over her. He removed his cloak and flung it around her. He wrapped her in it and scooped her back up. Obi-Wan had suddenly gone alert, sensing danger. He was searching both ways down the crevice, lightsaber held high. He started toward it, intending to face it and send whatever it was fleeing.

"Obi-Wan, I don't like the smell of fuel here. Have a care with your saber. It might ignite it." Qui-Gon cradled Valia tightly in his arms. Holding her living form filled him with a rush of joy and relief. But her pain and fear were like blinding black smoke. She was still trying to talk through her wildly clattering jaws.

"Hush now," he breathed, his lips against her forehead. Abruptly she stopped struggling to talk and relaxed. Valia wondered what it was that had been so important she tell them. It didn't matter any more now, whatever it was, because Qui-Gon was here. He understood. He was holding her, nodding at everything she babbled, concern and affection in his face.

The water boiled just beyond Obi-Wan, just outside the cavernous opening. A huge brown tentacle snaked high out of the water and lashed toward him with lightning speed. Reacting with pure instinct, Obi-Wan brought his saber down and sliced it in half. Valia flinched and raised a hand to block out the sudden flare of light. More tentacles whipped out of the water at them, thicker and longer. Most likely the dianoga had been waiting for prey nearby, attracted by the vibrations of footsteps and Valia falling off the ledge. Qui-Gon swung Valia behind him and supported her with one arm behind his back while the other brought up his lightsaber. He had it lit and had slashed two tentacles off before a dazed Valia could process what was happening. She clearly saw the brilliant green blade sink into the gelatinous flesh. She was pushed along as the two Jedi began a retreat back the way they had come, as they both fought off the dianoga. She hung, supported by Qui-Gon's strong arm. Pieces of tentacle thudded against the walls and the saber noise and splashing in the narrow space were deafening. Several sparks flew and landed on the surface of the water, igniting oily patches of floating fuel. Obi-Wan cautiously kicked at them with a foot, managing to douse them. The dianoga made one last try bring down prey with a remaining tentacle. Master and apprentice both swung at it, severing it in two places. Qui-Gon was already sloshing away at a near run, Valia back in his arms. His student turned to follow, holding his saber high to light the darkness again. He glanced back nervously, and satisfied there were no more lunging tentacles or blazing fireballs, he turned and ran after his master.

The return trip back to the surface took less time than the trip down, now that they knew where they were going. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan moved as fast as they could, Qui-Gon easily carrying Valia. She later foggily remembered dark dusty corridors and passing several skeletons. She was too exhausted and cold to react. They re-emerged where they'd left Ravi and Paccaia to pace helplessly and wait. Darkness was just falling. Ravi's fingernails were bloody from nervous chewing. He gave a whoop when he saw Valia slumped in Qui-Gon's arms, then checked himself when he saw how white and unmoving she was.

"Is she…is she dead?"

"No. She's very much alive. But we need to get her to a hospital." Qui-Gon continued past him, showing no sign of weariness other than in the lines of his face.

Satisfied to have rid themselves of this matter, the police dutifully filled out their reports. Ravi, Paccaia and the Jedi made their way quickly to the nearest public transportation platform. Here the city-smart Ravi and Paccaia took over with their knowledge of taxi routes.

When the transport Ravi had selected approached, they made ready to board. Quickly stepping aboard, they were met with the sight of thick, expensively cut fabric and sparkling jewels. Feathered headdresses jerked as richly dressed theater-goers gasped and backed toward the far end of the transport. Paying them no attention, the Jedi settled themselves in the long couch at the back. They both began removing items from their belt pouches and attending Valia's injuries. Ravi and Paccaia faced the well-heeled occupants of the airbus. No one spoke. A woman's nose wrinkled in distaste, and several of them looked up and down at the new arrivals with open curiosity and disgust. The smell of sewage and fuel filled the interior of the bus. Even some of the males fanned their noses in an effeminate manner. But they all stared. Ravi made a scoffing noise. Everyone loved the spectacle of an accident. These were the people he would some day be performing for, writing plays for? For once he didn't welcome this avid attention. Worried about Lia, he turned to the bench behind him.

She was still wrapped in Qui-Gon's dark cloak and settled in his lap. She'd finally relaxed the stranglehold she'd had around his neck for the last hour. Obi-Wan was on the floor, bent over her leg and examining the bite. Her other leg was fractured below the knee. He winced at the damage. Hooked teeth had cruelly pulled at the flesh and left many jagged tears. The calf was swelling and puffed painfully above her bloody boot.

"I'll start cleaning this up," he said glancing up at Qui-Gon, who nodded. His cheek was pressed against her pale face. She was still so cold. Her eyelids fluttered, trying to stay open. She mumbled something and started to reach down to her leg. She whimpered as Obi-Wan probed the wound and removed a tooth. Her breath hissed and she took a drunken swing at him, trying to swat him away. Her brow creased with pain. She struggled, either trying to get off Qui-Gon or curl up in a ball.

"That'll be enough of that," Qui-Gon growled softly. He took her arm and tucked it back under his robe. He banded his arms around her tightly and pressed his forehead against hers. "Sshhhh." Her muttering ceased. "Rest now, dear heart," he whispered so only she could hear. Valia's purple-shadowed eyes struggled to stay open and locked on his. With an expression of reverent adoration on his face, the Jedi Master touched the center of her forehead with two fingers and slowly trailed them down her face. A mental fusion sparked to life and Qui-Gon led her away from the pain she was so determined to fight. He took her to a quiet place deep within his consciousness. She smiled sleepily at him. She withdrew a hand and caressed his bearded jaw, as if to make sure he was real. Their eye contact held until Valia's eyelids grew too heavy. Before she closed them, she dazedly looked around at the sparkling cityscape out the windows and the audience of well-dressed people. Before she could make sense of what she'd seen, she fell asleep smiling, nestled in the sheltering cove of Qui-Gon's strong neck. She'd stubbornly sneaked her other arm out from the robe again and wrapped it around him. Qui-Gon sighed and rested his face against her mussed hair. His eyes met Obi-Wan's when the younger Jedi looked up from cleaning the shredded and freshly bleeding wound. He hadn't missed the exchange between Qui-Gon and Lia. It had been more than simply providing comfort. He smiled and sighed. Whatever the consequences of it might be, the bond between the two of them was there to stay. Obi-Wan saw with a sudden clarity that it was forever. Death would merely be a physical absence to be waited out when it came for either one of them. For now, there was only the problem of how to pry them apart when they reached the hospital.

Qui-Gon read Obi-Wan's acceptance in his eyes and closed his own. He continued to hold Valia in a mental and physical embrace. The shaken look on his face was gone. Ravi's marriage fantasies evaporated at the sight of the warrior's noble visage as he held her close to his heart. The two of them had been falling in love for almost a year. No one had truly noticed it. Except himself and his laser-sharp eyes, of course. They were a natural.

Obi-Wan continued to attempt to clean Valia's leg. Ravi and Paccaia continued to alternate their stare-down with the theater crowd with concerned glances at her. Brown sludge dripped slowly from the hem of Qui-Gon's robe and puddled on the floor. No one said a word.

The Jedi Master refused to leave Valia Traxis' room. So the hospital staff and droids left him alone, a benevolent but intimidating presence in the corner. In the quiet deep of the night he meditated, head lowered over his knees in the chair someone had brought. Part of him heard every noise, every approaching tread or footstep and its intent. Another part of him was wrapped up in Lia's sleeping form, listening to her breath, her heartbeat, her healing wounds. And another part of him focused on the currents of the Force, testing its flow, seeking direction. He sensed nothing contrary. Not a ripple. His being here was not compromising the greater good. He supposed there would eventually be trouble, in the form of the protocol and policy-obsessed Council. Well, let it come. It usually did. He would guard her from that as well.

She stirred in the confining treatment couch. She'd been bathed and treated and dressed in a thin white gown, while he had gone back to his chamber in the Temple to wash and rid himself of his reeking clothes. He admired her while she slept. It was something he knew he could never tire of doing. Would there always be this choking surge of emotion while he did it? She was softly beautiful, vulnerable. Her lashes made sweet dark crescents above her delicate cheekbones. Her icy coloring and chiseled features no longer gave her a look one might mistake for arrogance but of fragility. Her slender hands, so quick with a knife, hand blender or a jab in the chest of one her impudently teasing friends, lay half-curled on the covers. She didn't wake. Satisfied all was well, Qui-Gon retreated into a guarded half-sleep.

Valia awoke with a start, bracing herself for several kinds of pain and cold. She sat upright, confused to find none. She was warm, nearly pain-free, and clean. Hospital sounds sights and smells...Hospital? She hated hospitals as much as hyperspace jumps. Maybe more.

"Oh, rot! If this isn't a freaking crock of dufalop dung..."

Qui-Gon's forehead wrinkled as he regarded her from the shadows at her bedside. "And a good morning to you," he said pleasantly, leaning forward.

Valia somehow knew he'd been right there all night. She struggled to remember everything that had happened. The clearest thing to her at the moment was the vivid dream she'd had. A strange, but most pleasant dream. She'd been standing by a gate set in a high wall. Qui-Gon was closing the gate and telling her to not go through it. She knew there was something bad she needed to give her attention to on the other side of it, things she needed to deal with. She strained with curiosity to see over, but it was too high. She tried to push past Qui-Gon, but he stood immovably. Then he'd taken her hand and gently but insistently led her away. He'd walked her through an amazing, beautiful garden, the likes of which she'd never seen on Coruscant. She couldn't remember what they'd talked about, but it had made her laugh, whatever it was. She very clearly remembered the fuzzy warmth from holding his hand.

As if he read her thoughts, he left the chair and dropped to one knee beside the couch and took her hands in his. The contact of his big hands around hers did not cause crazy electrical charges to ricochet around inside her the way it would have before. It just felt good. She smiled directly into his dark eyes. No longer was there any skittish urge to look away. She was aware of a deeper, more intimate bond between them.

"If you wanted to be alone with me, you really didn't need to go this far, Lia."

Had that wish of hers just been three or four days before? "Believe me, this wasn't planned." Valia moved the covers aside to inspect her legs. Cuffs with blinking indicator lights and medication cartridges were fitted over the break in one leg and the bite on the other. A monitor with more medication being delivered through her skin adorned her wrist.

"I'm told you should be able to leave later today. You responded very well to the new bacta fluid they used. That bite had gotten infected and spread through your bloodstream. The hypothermia was fairly easy to reverse."

Valia reached above her head to consult the screen of her chart. "When today can I get out of here?" She scanned for this vital bit of information. "The sooner I'm out of this place the better. I need to be at both stores today."

"Certainly not. You will rest until you are recovered." Qui-Gon took the screen out of her hands and replaced it in its holder.

Their wills engaged in a stand-off as gray eyes met blue. She swallowed a knot of frustrated anger. What did he know about her plans, the daily effort it took to build her dream, the things she needed to oversee? Finally Valia sighed. "All right. While you're at it, let's hear it. Go ahead and tell me exactly what you think of the dangers of building climbing. Why we shouldn't have been doing it."

When Qui-Gon said nothing, Valia hitched up her eyebrows to prod a response from him. His own climbed a notch. "You're expecting a lecture?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"I'm not going to give you one."

"You're not?"

"No."

Valia wondered why as the Jedi Master regarded her calmly. "Perhaps what you expect is for me to validate with words what you already know to be true."

Yes, Valia thought, it was true that she'd overridden her more sensible nature in favor of thrills and demonstrations of bravery.

"Risk is part of life," Qui-Gon told her, studying her hands. How well he knew that. "You're not a child, Lia, and you're not my Padawan. You can decide for yourself how much risk you live with." Part of him wanted to forbid her from doing anything remotely like what she and her friends had done ever again. But it would be hypocritical of him, and he knew it. He'd been told enough times how many risks he took.

"I...I feel so... so alive when I'm climbing, and jumping."

He struggled to understand this. He was so closely bound to the living Force. Yet for those who were not, games that flirted with death would be a way to affirm life. He smiled and rubbed her hands. "I would have you _be_ alive as well."

Valia smiled and settled herself in this new closeness with him. To her delight, he was clad in something other than humble Jedi brown for a change. He wore a midnight blue cloak with a peek of white shirt beneath. His eyes sparkled with the reflected light of the monitors in the darkened room. His silver-shot long hair gleamed. Age had only deepened his truly handsome features. She was curious what he had looked like twenty years earlier. Then she decided it didn't matter. She felt somehow that their paths were meant to converge now, as they were.

Qui-Gon rose from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped her face in his hands and slowly leaned close. His hands were so unbelievably warm. She closed her eyes. A small tremor shook her at the pure pleasure, the need of his nearness. Her heart beat with deep slow thuds.

Say it. Tell her now, Jinn. "I will tell you this," he said very softly, his mysterious accent becoming more pronounced. "I love you. And the possibility of losing you yesterday threatened to undo nearly fifty years of training in self-control."

He'd never spoken such a thing to anyone before.

Valia's eyes popped open and her lips parted in surprise between his hands. The admission sounded as though it had been wrenched from him. She drew in a breath and all at the same time tried to ask why me, could he do that, and tell him she loved him too, and she was so happy, when he stopped the impending collision of words with a raised finger held to her lips.

"Think carefully about what you feel for me, Lia, before you say anything. Gratitude and love are not the same thing."

Valia stared at him. She nearly sputtered in frustration at his bland caution toward her feelings. _ All right, yes, I'm grateful to you for saving my life. But if you think that's all I feel for you, I've got news, Master Know -it -All. How can you know what you feel, but I can't? _

His blue gaze was only inches away. _Because this is not going to be easy later. _

_What was that you were saying about risk? _

She closed the gap and impulsively kissed his mouth, hard.

They drew apart quickly. Valia watched a startled and then scandalized expression cross the Jedi Master's face. Then a look crept over it that clearly said even he knew that was no proper kiss. Smiling, he leaned forward and completely committed himself to the path of the most exquisite and interesting detour of his life.

He gently took her slack lower lip between his. Tentative exploration blossomed into a full-blown, open-mouthed expression of passion. Light seemed to flicker outside their closed eyelids. Detour? No. Destiny. Valia's arms automatically went around his neck. Velvety soft, hard, sweet and salty all at once, his lips on hers. And...knowing. As if he'd done this with her before. She sensed a wild lust for life, a sensual creature under that carefully controlled exterior.

When it ended, Valia sagged back on the bed. She was suddenly so drained. So tired. It was still middle of the night. She put her hands on her stomach to stop the fluttery sensation of it floating away. Her rejoicing skin was doing a mad shivery dance. Parts of her wanted nothing to do with sleep. He loved her.

"You need your rest," she heard Qui-Gon murmur in her ear as the bed covers were drawn up over her. As if he'd merely given a child a drink of water while tucking her in. She hadn't heard the ever so slight tremor in his voice.

"Great... flaming... gobs of..." she muttered as exhaustion swept her into a deep sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Is this your idea of resting?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi had seemingly materialized in front of her. Valia jumped with a guilty start and looked up from her inventory on the data screen as she sat at one of the outdoor tables. The Jedi padawan stood there smiling at her. "You're not going to hit me, are you?"

Valia smiled and sighed. "No, Obi-wan. Have a seat. I'm really sorry about that." He waved her apology off as he sat in the chair next to her.

"And I'm not over-exerting myself, as you can see. Just catching up on inventory for next week. I'll go home in a little while. Promise."

The tree in the planter was beginning to leaf out, casting thin shadows over them both and the collection of tables. He observed her assessingly as she worked, then satisfied she was as well as she sounded, turned his gaze out on the plaza and its scattering of pedestrians.

Valia seemed to suddenly notice Qui-Gon was absent and how odd it was that his student was without him. "Where's Qui-Gon?"

"Probably sleeping."

"So he sent you to check up on me for him." She guessed the truth accurately, but there was also gentle teasing there.

"Yes, but I...I wanted to see how you were myself."

Valia smiled fondly at him and looked down at the table. "I never did say thank you to either one of you. It sounds a little trite for what you did."

Obi-Wan shrugged as though to lump it into just another day's work. Jedi he might be, the gesture still reminded Valia of her self-conscious teen-aged male cousins or brother, or Ravi a decade ago. Her heart tugged with affection for him.

"We were quite relieved to find you in one piece." A mild understatement, at least from his master's point of view.

"Well, if you hadn't found me when you did, I'm not sure I'd be sitting here wondering how many liantiums to order."

"You were holding your own very well when we got there."

"Thanks, but that silly piece of pipe against a dianoga? I don't think so." She shuddered at the memory of those muscular tentacles.

Compliments and thanks said, they lapsed into silence, not sure what else to say. Valia had rarely spoken to Obi-Wan alone. She sensed something different about him today, an acceptance that hadn't been quite whole-hearted before. Valia played with a fallen leaf frond on the table. "I thought Qui-Gon was really going to chew me out when I woke up. I don't know why. I do know it was a whole series of stupidities that landed me down in that place." She was sure if she had the parachute she'd left down there she'd be able to figure out what had gone wrong with it.

"I suppose all I could think of was the way Tak, my father, would get ready to give us all one of his famous lectures when my brother, cousins and I would get ourselves into trouble. He's almost as tall as Qui-Gon, and he'd puff his chest out and cross his arms and stand right over you, I mean right over you while he was doing it." She demonstrated with her arms and chest and pulled her pretty heart-shaped face into a horrible scowl. "What the blankety-blank were you thinking? No! You weren't blankety-blank thinking! Blankety-blank go off and get yourselves and my blanking unborn descendants blanking killed on that rock! Stay the blank off that blanking blankety-blank hangar! Stay away from that blank-blanking canyon! What the blank did I tell you about blankety-blank climbing around in that blanking cave?"

Obi-Wan was grinning at her impression. "It sounds like you've had an illustrious career already in climbing things and getting stuck in dark places."

Valia rolled her eyes and waved a hand. "I suppose one of these years I'll outgrow it."

"If you're worried about lectures, it's never been Qui-Gon's style to belabor a point with words. His usual method is to carefully stand you in the way of the lesson and let it hit you between the eyes." Or some other choice body part.

Then he looked at Valia and shifted with slight embarrassment. "If I may speak bluntly, I think your father is the very last person Qui-Gon wants you to be reminded of around him."

Valia lowered her eyes and pressed her lips together. How well I know, she thought. She flushed at the memory of that morning in her apartment. Qui-Gon had taken her home with a promise to see how she was doing later that evening. Before he'd walked out the door, he'd extracted her promise that she would rest. And just a couple more kisses. Well, maybe it had been more like three or four. Or five. Undoubtedly just to see if they were as nice as last night's. And to hone his technique. He was really getting good. In the middle of one of them, she'd nearly begged him to take her right then and there. Only biting her tongue had kept the completely wanton request from slipping out.

Obi-Wan reached under his cloak and searched for something in a pouch on his belt as if suddenly reminded of something. "He gave this to me to give to you." He pulled forth a long blade of grass. The middle of it had been woven into an intricately patterned double knot. Valia smiled as she took it.

"I'm getting quite a collection of these, you know. There won't be any grass left at all on Coruscant if he keeps this up." She turned it over and caressed it with a fingertip. She decided this one would be a little more special than the others, after what he'd told her last night.

Eighteen year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi watched her admire the small token from Qui-Gon. His mentor: galactic ambassador, master swordsman, feared Jedi warrior, defender of the Republic; and hopeless romantic, tying love knots out of grass. What else was hiding under that stern exterior? Maybe he didn't know Qui-Gon as well as he'd thought. Still, every part made up the whole of the man, and Obi-Wan carefully observed everything his teacher did through yet-youthful eyes.

Lia seemed to remember he was sitting next to her. "Well I suppose I can take care of business later. I really will be in trouble with Qui-Gon if I don't at least look like I'm resting at home." She closed the screen and folded up her workpad, and tucked it and the grass knot into a pocket of her jacket. Obi-Wan helped her out of her chair and led her across the plaza with a steadying arm. She was walking with a slight limp and didn't seem as sure on her feet as usual. She made a very small wince as the new skin over the bite wound pulled tightly and the fracture point in her other leg reminded her it was still healing.

"Do you want me to call a speeder? How did you get here?" Obi-Wan frowned with concern.

"I'm fine. Thank you, but no. Let's just keep walking. Things will loosen up." She seemed plenty loose already. "I really must tell your master what a gracious gentleman he's taught you to be." Valia leaned gratefully on his arm.

He turned to look at her, his long-lashed green eyes searching her face for sarcasm. There was none. Only smiling sincerity.

"I'm completely serious," she reassured him. Then she reached over and playfully yanked his braid. "Say, have you practiced your juggling?"

"Actually, yes I have..."

From that day on their relationship deepened into a comfortable friendship. And so it was that Valia Traxis was taken home on the arm of a Jedi Knight for the second time in one day. What were her neighbors going to think?


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Valia chided herself yet again for being restless and ridiculously nervous waiting for Qui-Gon's visit. Her pacing probably wasn't helping either of her legs any so she made herself sit down on the couch. She tried to calm herself and think of this as no different than if he showed up at her bar where she would serve him juice and wit. This was just a visit from a friend. A close friend.

She asked herself if there was more she wanted from this visit than just for him to see how she was doing. After all, he could easily check via video link or even commlink. But that wouldn't have given her quite a reason to put on such a fine outfit. Something you had to get up close and personal to truly appreciate. Something soft and touchable. The dark blue silk of the tunic and trousers whispered over her skin. The ensemble was very comfortable but fit closely at all the right places. She nearly darted into her bedroom to change into something else, suddenly fearing the neckline would appear too obviously low. When was the last time she had worried about such a thing? Well, at least the overtunic could be drawn further closed if she felt the need. It brushed the floor, in keeping with the fashions of the day. Finally, a style she could easily accommodate. She was so short nearly every garment was too long on her anyway unless it was altered. Clothing that dragged trainlike on the floor was supposedly the height of fashion in the Core Worlds.

Would she have dabbed a whisper of perfume on her throat for another visiting concerned friend? Hardly. Valia had done everything in the last year to sidestep or run from the man's virility. For her there was no escaping its potent attraction so she chose to confront and answer it with a few feminine wiles. Feminine wiles indeed, she snorted, resting her face on her hands. What was she doing? He loved her apparently for who she was, her heart and mind, not for what she was wearing. He was probably totally immune to such surface frippery, trained to not even notice it. She sighed and rose to start pacing the apartment again. Still, it felt all too good to pretty herself for someone again.

Normally she wouldn't have bothered with anything but a simple hairstyle that kept it out of her face. But since she'd had time to play with it, she'd woven it into a loose fish-bone pattern and tucked the long tail back under itself. She looked at herself in the small mirror in the foyer one more time. She gave herself a woozy, heavy-lidded smile. She did indeed feel a bit woozy. The drugs she'd been receiving were some powerful antibiotics. She glanced at the obnoxious heavy medical bracelet on her wrist. It was still monitoring vitals and delivering steady doses of medication into her skin. When the feedback to its detectors indicated she no longer needed it, the clasp would release. Until then, it was nearly part of her. The minute it opened, she planned to ceremoniously fling it from her balcony.

She jumped at the sound of the door chime and snapped herself out of her would-be seductress pose. Without her usual caution of checking the viewscreen to see who was there, she immediately stabbed at the switch to open the door. She knew who was on the other side. She just knew it was him. She could feel his presence through it as surely as if it was open. The door slid aside, and there he was, gloriously filling the entryway.

Qui-Gon's eyebrows hitched up a notch as he scanned his hostess.

"Did you check to see who was at the door before you opened it?" he chided ever so gently.

"I knew it was you. No, I didn't." How had he guessed that? "Come in. Hello." She backed away from the door, smiling at him.

"You really should stay in the habit of doing that, no matter what." He strode in, the door closing behind him.

"I know, I know," she sighed gustily, flapping her hands. She led the way into the sitting room.

"You went to work today." It was a question without really being one. Valia glanced over her shoulder at him. Of course she knew Obi-Wan would tell him where he'd found her. Not that she minded. He hadn't forbade her from working. As if he had the right.

"Yes, I did. Just for a couple of hours. Obi-Wan brought me home and I spent the rest of the day here, resting." She fought down an impulse to be sarcastic.

Walking behind her, Qui-Gon noted the slight unsteadiness in her gait. Maybe it was just limping. No, it wasn't. It wasn't stiff like a limp would be. Her eyes were a little glassy and she looked far too...relaxed. He studied her as she rearranged several large pillows on her couch.

"Lia...have you been drinking?"

She whirled around to face him, her dark blue duster flying. "What! No!" She stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips. "What is this, a damned inquisition?"

Qui-Gon stared at her. In spite of how irked she was at his questioning, Valia nearly laughed at the picture he made. He looked as though her outburst had flattened his ears back against his head.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Forgive me. No, it is not." He was wearing his usual attire of tan and dark brown again. His face bore an expression of gentle concern, his hands folded in front of him. Despite his humble demeanor, he still seemed to fill her entire apartment, he was so big. That larger than life aura was emanating from him as well, leaving no space untouched by him, no room for her to think of anything but him.

"I've had good reason to be worried about you in the last day or so, wouldn't you agree?"

Valia walked back toward him, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry. I suppose, yes. But it's these drugs. I think. They're making me feel a little strange."

Qui-Gon studied her. His mouth quirked into a small sideways smile. She had actually primped and preened for him. She was ravishing. He speculated he would have to very carefully frame how he said it, but he wanted to tell her that her filth-spattered face of the night before was even now the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. Even when she took time to make herself up, she was without the least bit of artifice. Her pupils were dilated, making her gray eyes look bigger than ever. The blue color she was wearing suited her well. The way her hair was braided back exposed her delicate ears, giving her a vaguely elfin look. The sudden and appealing idea of running his tongue around the edges of those ears crossed his mind. He could imagine his hands sliding around the silky back of her neck where those short tendrils sprouted and pulling loose the whole mass of her hair, making it fall down her bare back, and...

He abruptly cleared his throat and willed himself to stop his mind's undisciplined wandering. "Then all the more reason you should be resting. Perhaps I should go."

"No, no, no." Valia crossed the rest of the distance to him, her face appealing him to stay. "I'll be all right. We can visit a while. Come on, let me take your cloak, and I'll get us some tea." Her hands reached out to lightly rest on his arms. With a feeling similar to this morning's sensation of the ground becoming very slippery under his feet, Qui-Gon shrugged out of his robe and handed it to her. She very carefully folded it in half lengthwise and just as carefully hung it on a hook by the front door. He followed her with his eyes the entire way there and back to the sitting room. She stopped and faced him. Their eyes locked and held. It seemed that there had been nothing but awkwardness and apologies since he'd walked in the door. In that moment something clicked into place and everything properly aligned.

He fell toward her at the same time she lunged at him. Two pairs of hands collided, fingers lacing. Their mouths slanted together and melded. She gasped and whimpered into his mouth. He slowly stretched his arms out and up winglike, pulling her hands with them until she nearly hung from him as though crucified.

Their souls rushed to each other nearly as quickly as their bodies had. There was that flickering light behind her eyes again. Valia's head was swimming not from the drugs but from the sheer speed of their coming together and the shocking blaze of passion. She knew just a fraction of a second of fear at what she'd opened the door to. Then it was gone. She smiled against his mouth, still kissing him. She tilted her head back and strained to reach him by standing on her toes as he inclined forward to her. He squeezed her fingers and smiled too, at the upwelling of joy he felt in her. Their thoughts mirrored each other's minds. _You. I found you. I finally found you. _

Qui-Gon released her hands and picked her up at the waist to hold her tightly against him. Now she didn't have to stretch so far. And she was delightfully pressed full length against him. Beyond the immediate reality of how good his lips and tongue felt against hers, she was vaguely aware of the room slowly spinning on its axis. No, it wasn't the room, it was them. They were slowly turning in a strange slow dance. This was one dance Valia never wanted to end. Her world abruptly tilted and she yelped as they both went down on the couch. How had they gotten all the way over here? She dizzily stared at Qui-Gon in open-mouthed surprise from on top of him. When she saw this was intentional and how nicely his seated big body had cushioned her, she laughed delightedly. She wound her arms back around him and made a little moan as she refitted her mouth against his. The taste and scent of him was still so new, so delicious. She wanted to binge, to feast on him. She wanted to kiss him, to lick him everywhere but she stayed near his mouth. She didn't want to break this intimacy. She wanted to get as close to him as possible. She could no longer deny the primal urge she felt to mate with him. It frightened her how frantic she was to have him. What had she wanted from this visit? This. Him.

Now that she was resting comfortably on him, she could concentrate more fully on every sensation. His chest and shoulders were every bit as solid as she'd imagined they were from the brief encounters her arms had had with them before. His own arms were wrapped tightly around her at her waist and upper back. His hand glided up the back of her head under her hair. She felt it loosening and coming undone. She herself was taking great handfuls of his hair and sliding it slowly through her hands.

His mouth. She could not possibly get enough of his mouth. She placed nipping little kisses into his moustache and around his lips. She couldn't help making soft little noises of pleasure every time he caressed her tongue with his own. He seemed to be matching her demand for demand, pressure for pressure, letting her lead. But she thought she was beginning to see the first cracks in that perpetually controlled composure of his. The idea of seeing him lose control over her, because of her, was both tremendously exciting and frightening. She took his lower lip in her mouth and gently bit. The sudden intake of his breath sent a thrill through her. She skimmed her lips through his beard and nuzzled the side of her face against his jaw. No stubble burn, she thought rapturously. She further explored the line between his soft facial hair and skin over the hard planes of his face. She trailed her lips over his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose, an eyebrow, his temple, where his hair was the softest and pulled back to expose his ears to her. She was rewarded with another hitch in his breathing when she closed her mouth over an earlobe and sucked on it. How long had it been since she'd first thought of doing that? She shifted slightly on him so she could do one more thing she'd daydreamed about. He actually trembled when she drew her tongue in a long damp swath up the strong column of his neck. She smiled and kissed his jawline. Paradoxically she wanted to push every single one of his turn-on buttons immediately, and yet hold him close and guard the vulnerabilities she was exposing. She suddenly wanted to spend the rest of her life doing this with him. Valia irrationally wondered if that would be enough time to do everything she could imagine. She realized she was almost panicky in her grabbing at him, struck with the thought of wasted time.

Her shifting on him had exposed a further delight to her. She'd moved so she was straddling one of his thighs. Now aware of and very pleased by the presence of a very large and normal male arousal against her leg, she shifted again to get comfortable. She lowered herself over it so she could feel even more of him. She smiled. He was so straight and long. Nice. Then just a flicker of doubt skittered across her mind. What if...? No. Maybe in all this lustful frenzy his lightsaber hilt had gotten twisted around on his belt and buried in the layers of his tunic. She fully expected him to be wearing it. She'd never seen him without it. She wondered if he slept with it. She stifled a laugh and wondered if she'd get to find out. Involuntarily she shifted her eyes and slightly turned her head to check down by his waist. There it was, in its usual place at his side. The relief and joy she felt at the sight of it struck her as so funny a crazy giggle burst out of her. She brought up a hand from behind Qui-Gon in a useless attempt to stifle it. She continued to look down at it, unable to stop herself from making a very base analytical comparison. More laughter bubbled up. Qui-Gon drew his head back to look at her in consternation. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned back so far she nearly tumbled off his lap, and laughed at the ceiling. In spite of her embarrassment it was an easy, musical laugh. The drugs, combined with the flush of her recent escape from an early death, and finally feeling able to let herself go with him combined to make her unusually giddy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this...happy.

Qui-Gon held her around her hips to keep her from falling to the floor.

"All right," he said at last. "What is it that's got you so tickled?" One of his brows was cocked and he was fighting to keep from grinning at her.

She looked at him, barely able to control herself. "Me," she said in a small voice and burst into laughter again, both hands over her mouth.

He gave her a wry smile. "Well," he drawled softly, "I do love a woman who can laugh at herself." He studied the marvelous work of womanhood on his lap. She was prettily flushed and her hair was half up and half down, partially cascading over her shoulders. Her look nearly shouted 'bedroom'. It was all the more appealing because she wasn't contriving it.

Through all her shifting he'd been praying she wouldn't move in the precise direction she had. No additional stimuli had been needed there, thank you very much. Then he'd seen her look down at his waist and surmised what had gone through her mind.

"So..." He regarded her expectantly. "Do I measure up?"

Valia's face fell forward into her hands again with fresh convulsions of laughter at him. She tried to nod 'yes' against his chest and stop her now out of control laughing. She knew she was probably acting like a complete adolescent, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She was getting slap-happy now. She shook as she hunched over against him. Qui-Gon placed his hands on either side of her head and gently brought her up to face him.

"Lia." He was starting to laugh himself. "Come now. Get a grip."

She stared at him with watery eyes from between his hands, which nearly encompassed her head. She didn't know if that was a deliberate play on words, but she decided to make it one.

"On anything in particular, Master Jinn?" she asked coyly. She finger-walked one of her hands down toward his crotch.

Qui-Gon gave her a sly smile from his half-turned face because he knew what she meant. His look clearly called her a naughty girl. He placed a hand over hers to stop it. "On yourself, miss."

If he didn't get a grip himself, he was going to be one very naughty boy.

She'd been innocently driving him toward sensory overload. Even if she'd done nothing at all, she was still intoxicating to the Jedi Master's acutely tuned senses. Before coming to see her, he'd done some calming exercises, seeking the strength he knew he was probably going to need to keep his base urges under control. He saw that now, if ever, was not the time to explore them with her. Not while she was in this condition.

Still he couldn't resist indulging himself in touching her. He simply had to touch her. This was why he'd resisted seeing her in private for so long. This uncontrollable, illogical, passionate fusion that happened every time they got close. And the urge to go at it like a couple of tuskettes in heat. Whatever physical things he had done with a woman many years before had just been mindless and heartless groping. An acting out of rebellion and curiosity. Those experiences paled in comparison to this. He hadn't been entirely joking when he'd told her that his midichlorians sang every time he even got near her. It was the closest he could come to describe the way his entire being thrummed when the two of them connected on any level.

It was easy to tell himself that it was her heart, soul and life-force that were exerting such a powerful pull on him. But when the exterior packaging was so incredibly sweet, so much the better. The perfume she was wearing was driving him mad the way it mixed with her own scent. He silently thanked her for using a light hand with it. Any more and it would have been overpowering to him. She smelled lush and fruity, like something to eat or drink slowly, and he wanted to do just that. He wanted to lick it from her skin at that tender spot at the base of her throat, from between her breasts. That skin of hers. That healthy, clear and soft skin. He wanted to devote days of accolades to it, just touching it with his fingertips.

He settled for lifting a hand to caress the side of her face. She closed her luminous gray eyes and turned her cheek into his palm. She enjoyed this for about half a minute before she made a sound between a sigh and a moan and leaned toward his face again. She kissed him full on the mouth, melting against him. Unable to do anything but respond in kind, he re-wrapped his arms around her, his palms sliding over the silk she wore. Her tongue flicked against his, playfully chasing it. His newly practiced tongue gave chase to hers, causing her to sigh and spread her thighs more widely around his hips. She sank more deeply against him.

The urges she was evoking in him belonged to a wild male animal, not a Jedi Knight. He knew he could have her right now, take her right this instant. He could pick her up, swing her over his shoulder and trot her into her bedroom. Or he could take her right here on the couch or on the floor. And she'd have done nothing to stop him. She'd have encouraged him all the way, giving herself to him completely. He sensed the currents of her mind, knowing she wanted to do just that. The suggestive way she was beginning to rub against him was going to drive him out of his mind with desire. She wanted to consummate her feelings for him, nearly a year's worth of pent-up emotion. As did he. But not now. It couldn't be now. They'd both hate themselves afterwards, and he couldn't begin to bear the thought of her hating him. Just a few minutes more. No, not even that long. One minute more, Qui-Gon told himself, he would self-indulgently enjoy her. And then he would be the voice of right and reason.

As much as he would have liked to stay fixated on the velvety inside of her mouth, there were so many other things he wanted to bestow his praises to. He traveled much the same path she'd gone on him. He kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek, the outer corners of those tipped up eyes. He traced the silken line of her eyebrows with his lips. He kissed the childhood scar she vainly hid under her bangs. Just one more lungful of the scent of her hair, one more glance down at her cleavage...

"Lia..."

He felt her smile against his neck. Rather than a call for her attention, her name had come out sounding more like an impassioned mantra.

"Lia," he tried again. She gave him only a small moan in response around a mouthful of his throat. Her clever hands had already found their way under the layers of his tunic, and were inside his shirt running over his bare chest. She passed her palms slowly over his nipples. They hardened like stones. He wasn't going to be able to speak at all if she kept this up. It was time to battle down the beast inside him that was rising up to engulf them both. It gave a scream of frustration when he willed it back into its dark den. It was greed, it was lust...it was of the Dark Side.

Control came, but shakily. He placed his fingertips at the sides of her face and gently brought her head up to look at him. Her eyes looked even more drugged and clouded than before, but this wasn't from the antibiotics. He dropped his hands to his chest and captured hers through his shirt to still their sensuous roving. He held her gaze until both of them were breathing normally and their hearts were no longer racing.

Confusion was now in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed. Wrong? Right? Which way was up?

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong, my dear. It's just that I did come here to see how you were recovering. Not to...to...make out."

Valia smiled broadly, her white teeth flashing. She pulled her hands out from under his shirt and laid the layers of cloth back in order. She played with their edges.

"Making out..." she said softly, smiling demurely. "Is that what we were doing?"

"I think that's one of many terms to describe it, yes."

"Hmmmmm. And what would a Jedi Master know about terms like that?" she teased.

"I'll tell you a secret. Every once in a while I escape from my cell in the Temple, and I hear rumors about all these things people do."

"I see." Valia slid back on his legs slightly and continued to perch there, her knees squeezing his hips. His hands rested comfortably at her waist, rubbing the silk warmed by her skin. "Well, I can't think of a nicer way to really check to see how I'm doing, can you?"

He gave her a dubious smile.

"Qui-Gon, I'm just fine."

He snorted with humor. 'Fine' was about the least of all the descriptive adjectives that came to his mind to describe the wonder of her.

"I have an idea." Valia leaned forward, scooting that tantalizingly lovely bottom along his thighs. There was a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. She almost leaned too far, nearly bumping his nose with her own. "Let's make out some more. And then... we can see where that leads to."

She normally wasn't in the habit of tumbling into bed with a man right away. And she most definitely had not planned on anything like this for the evening's activities, despite her meticulous primping. But she was nearly vibrating with sexual tension. She hadn't been this aroused in years. She was warm and wet, and her nipples were standing erect through several layers of silk. And that feeling that she'd known him for so much longer than one year persisted. She loved him. Didn't she? She was nearly positive it was love. She cocked her head at him, studying his eyes for response. She had a far better idea from past experiences what love wasn't.

But she didn't want to think about that now. The deliciously uninhibited feeling from the antibiotics and pain neutralizers seemed too good to waste while he was here, and so obviously aroused as well. Why not? Why indeed not?

Qui-Gon appeared to consider this intriguing idea. "Hmmm. And is there any particular place you want it to lead to?" He had a pretty good idea what it was. He was still trying to convince himself to tell her they weren't going to be going there now, and deciding how in the name of all that was good he was going to tell her.

"You can see into my mind." She fondled the ends of his hair.

"Lia my love, expecting me to always read your mind is a dangerous pattern for two people to fall into, and a perilous trap."

She sighed. Of course he was right. It could be maddening at times, like now.

"Well, here are some other terms you might have heard. The Wampa wiggle. The wild thing. The nasty. Mattress Bolappa-ball. The Kashyyyk tree-shaker. The-"

Qui-Gon stopped her with an upraised hand. His eyebrows had nearly reached his hairline and he was chuckling. "All right, Lia, I get the idea."

"I'm sorry. I'm being really crude. But I want to shake your tree. I want to make your midichlorians sing."

"I already feel shaken, and my midichlorians are singing."

"Well then let's go make love, and make them hoarse." She moved to pull him off the couch.

"Lia." He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. He took both her hands between his palms and held them upright between them. "Do you really want to give that part of yourself to me so quickly?"

"Yes," she answered with no hesitation.

"Don't you think it would be better for both of us, especially you, if we waited for that?"

Valia stopped to consider this. For a man who she knew lived largely in the moment and by how he felt, he was making her think way too much. But she had been letting every part of her but her head do her thinking for her since he'd walked in the door. She looked at his face. His eyes, which had been as unfocused as hers earlier, were now sharp as jewels. She suddenly became interested in the scattering of dark hairs on the backs of his hands.

"Listen to me. You're still injured. You're tired, no matter how much you're trying to deny it." He held up her wrist that was decorated with the gray med bracelet. "You are on drugs. As much as I'd love to take you up on your suggestion, I have too much respect for you and myself to take advantage of such a situation."

She eyed the bracelet. "It is pretty unsexy, isn't it?"

"Believe me, it does nothing to detract from your beauty." His voice was low and husky.

She shifted on him to get comfortable again, unwittingly rubbing his treacherous body in places he was battling to bring under control. She couldn't know how he had paused outside her door after leaving her apartment that morning. He'd flopped his hood over his head and leaned against the wall, and once again with his mind quieted a raging erection. He wondered if doing that enough times could render him completely impotent. He'd hoped none of her neighbors had seen him. What would they think? He tightened his grip on her hands. Her eyes were still begging him to undress her. He wondered if this was the kind of situation his own master had ever specifically envisioned when he had taught him all the fine arts of self control so long ago.

"I've wanted to put my hands on you since the day I met you. Do you have any idea how I've resisted that?"

Valia was surprised by this admission. That long? "Well, except for a time or two recently, no, I had no idea. You've been nothing but an honorable gentleman the whole time I've known you."

Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow at her. "Being that gentleman has suddenly gotten so much more difficult."

"If it's permission to touch me you need, Qui-Gon, permission is more than granted," she said softly. "So I've seen what a gentleman you are. Sometimes a woman wants to see...other things."

His gaze suddenly seemed more piercing. Something blazed briefly in his blue eyes. "Other things..." he echoed. He let go of her hands and leaned forward to cup her face with his, and press his forehead to hers. Valia curiously accepted this new gesture of intimacy from him. But she gasped at the flood of lurid images that suddenly filled the vision of her mind's eye. Images that were not her own. Images that became more fascinating the more she saw. Unable to break free, she was transfixed by the erotic pictures she could see through closed eyes. A woman atop a prone man flinging back a curtain of pale hair, fondling her own breasts. Sheer drapes of fabric surrounding them on an enormous bed. Then water. Unbelievable amounts of deep warm water and foam. A polished stone wall. A naked woman leaning against the wall, slicked down with water and oil, the scent of which actually filled her nostrils, an exotic scent she'd never smelled in her life. The woman was herself! The details shocked her. That's just how she would look with her hair wet, biting her lip, rubbing more oil on herself, eyes dark with desire and smiling up at what surely was her lover coming to join her. And she could feel things! Bizarre sensations flitted across her flesh. And she seemed to feel his imagined sensations as well as her own in a potent and strange mixture. Her arms were around his broad back, water beaded up on his warm skin. Wet lips and hair tangling and sliding. Bare breasts against his chest, water flowing and molding itself between their skin. Before that could progress further, she suddenly saw herself from the torso up, on her back, twisted in an impossibly vast sea of crimson-violet bedsheets. There was a fire somewhere because there were crazy shadows on the walls and ceiling. She was writhing in either ecstasy or torment, handfuls of sheet gripped in her clawed hands. Again she saw herself from his point of view. She felt no shame at the sight of herself this way, only a dazed fascination, like in lucid dreaming. She felt more intimate sensations. Oh gods, yes, that's how he would feel inside her. Things she'd dared to imagine herself, he was now imagining for her, with her. Other visions began to flit past more quickly. They were rolling naked in high, sweetly scented purple grass in the sunshine of another world. Her mouth was on him, around him...The images became too fast to see. Billions of flower petals against her skin, more water, stars...

Reality crept slowly in from the outer edges of her vision. Valia found herself staring at Qui-Gon's eyes, out of breath, her skin flushed and hot. She was so close to coming, one move of her hips could send her over the edge. She could finish this herself. She wanted to. She realized her hands were clutching handfuls of his tunic at the shoulders nearly to the point of tearing the fabric. She groaned at having been so close, but she controlled herself. She gradually let go of him and flexed her aching fingers.

Qui-Gon wore an inscrutable expression on his face as he watched her. Was it regret? He took a deep breath. "Those are just some of the things you and I might do. Only a fraction of ways I've thought to love you." Fevered pleasure for both of them. But he wasn't supposed to want that.

Valia covered her face with her hands, still regaining her composure. Guilt washed through him. What had he done? His skills were never to be used for anything like this, for self-indulgent and teasing fantasies. He touched the backs of her hands with his fingers. "Valia. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

She lowered her hands. "For what?" She gave him a heavy-lidded look. "Why are you sorry? It was...that was...incredible. A few minutes ago I was the one asking for the real thing." She relaxed against him. "You're sorry you stopped? Is that it?" She was.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took another deep breath. "No, Lia. For giving in to fantasy. None of that was reality. It is not the here and now. They are things that might possibly happen in a shifting future, not things that are real."

"Then let's make it real," she breathed and moved to kiss him again. He caught her face between his hands and stopped her before he would be lost again.

"No, Lia. Nothing we talked about a few moments ago has changed."

She exhaled with a puff of breath between her lips, causing loose locks of her hair to softly rise and fall. Maybe she could wait for all he'd shown her, after all. She was suddenly struck with the realization that she really knew very little about this man and his past. She wondered who and what she held in her arms. Was she ten kinds of fool trying to hold him, trying to capture a shooting star?

"Perhaps you could make that tea now," Qui-Gon suggested gently.

Tea. What was tea? It sounded like something horribly mundane. She understood what he was trying to do, and heard the sense in his words. But parts of her wrenched in despair as she climbed off him and stood. She smiled at him and combed out the rest of her tangled hair with her fingers. She swayed on her feet.

"Tea. Coming right up."

With deliberate effort, she put one foot in front of the other and walked the short distance to the kitchen area. Qui-Gon watched her carefully, wondering if it had been a good idea to send her where she could drop or spill something. She turned to look back at him. He smiled encouragingly. Valia nearly launched herself at him again, but she made herself keep going.

She'd enjoyed virtual sex quite a number of times, but it had never left her feeling this raw and shaky. If she felt this way after just imagining it with him, what would actually making love with him be like? It would probably turn her world upside down. She glanced over at him. He had gotten that deep crease between his eyebrows and was in a very serious contemplation of the far wall. He'd actually felt that wretched over a fantasy? She shrugged and smiled to herself, remembering.

She stood in the kitchen and dragged her hands through her hair, facing the U-shaped appliance enclosure. She knew she needed to somehow heat water and find those crumbled dried leaves. What kind? Oh, these difficult decisions. Most likely something calming.

"Gets me all hot and bothered, then wants me to make tea..." she muttered softly under her breath.

"What was that?" Qui-Gon called from the opposite side of the sitting area. He'd gotten to his feet and was looking closely at one of the colorful tapestries hanging on her apartment walls. Bright yarns and fibers made stylized images of fruit trees and pastoral scenes.

"Nothing!" She filled a thermal pitcher with water.

"Is this tapestry hand-woven?"

"Yes, I have an aunt who makes them. She doesn't like to use droids or computers in any part of the process."

"These are beautiful. Remarkable work."

Apparently he'd been able to shut off the sexual meltdown much more quickly than she had. Probably a Jedi thing. She glanced back at him as he examined the wall hangings as blithely as if he were in an art museum. Hadn't she noticed before how long his legs were? And she had yet to confirm with her hands what she suspected was a first class butt. The other side of the apartment seemed entirely too great a distance to be separated from him. She stopped staring, snapped herself back to what she was doing and added leaves to the filter. The water in the pitcher had reached a wild boil while she had been staring and was splashing over the rim. "Mmmff," she muttered, flinging scalding droplets off her hand and fanning away a faceful of steam with the other. Good thing he was facing the other way.

"Do you need any help with anything?" he inquired politely.

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Yes."

He was across the room and at her side so fast she jumped. "But not with making tea." She tightened her mouth to keep from grinning.

Knowing full well what she was talking about, Qui-Gon put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. He pressed a kiss into the hair above her ear. "You test me, woman," he murmured. Valia was perversely gratified to feel the evidence pushing against her that he hadn't quite damped down his arousal as well as she'd thought.

"I'm sorry. I can't get my mind off of...you know."

"Then maybe we should think about something else."

But what else was there to think about right now? What else was near and dear to her heart? Then it hit her. Food.

"I can't believe myself," she said, aghast. She put a hand on her forehead.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't make a thing to eat for you. I forgot."

"You didn't have to do that."

"But it's rude to not offer. What if you get hungry? What if you haven't eaten?"

"Lia, I've already eaten, and you are not being rude. I came just to visit you, remember?"

She was already half inside a storage unit, rummaging, pulling things out. Cook, yes indeed, that's what she would do. Lots of food. Eat. The vaguely annoying thought crossed her mind that she was acting much like her mother. When faced with either a distressing or joyous event, start cooking or serving food to someone, anyone. And guests on her homeworld always were served something sweet practically before entering a house. Her female ancestors had probably been turning over in their graves. Again.

Bewildered, Qui-Gon watched her move around the tiny kitchen suddenly becoming a whirlwind of efficiency. She muttered something about rotted old Nymean traditions while going through every item in a cold storage bin. She grimaced with a jerk when she sniffed at the contents of one item and replaced the lid, shoving the entire thing down the waste disposal shaft.

"You don't have any food allergies or problems, do you? Because a lot of people I know have trouble with nerf milk. And usually if you've got a nerf milk allergy, you've got--"

"No. Lia, stop, please. This isn't necessary." He couldn't remember ever in his life feeling this amused, aroused and exasperated in the same space of time. Or so vibrantly alive.

She was already adding this and that to a hopper in the lid of a baking unit. "It's no problem. It'll be just a minute." She poured a generous quantity of nerf milk into the feeder tube, shut the lid, and activated it. "Now, how's that tea coming?" She turned to check it. The lid latch in the top of the unit blew. Partially mixed batter shot straight to the ceiling and rained down on both of them. Valia shrieked and lunged to turn off the device.

"Actually," Qui-Gon said after a long pause, during which he wiped a gob of batter from his eyelid, "I do have problems with food, but only when it comes to wearing it..."

"Oh my...oh, damn. Oh, I...I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..." Valia reached toward him with a horror-stricken expression.

"The kitchen," he said with quiet dignity, "is closed. The tea," he took a platter out of Valia's hand and set it down on the counter with a small bang. "Is done," he nodded toward it. "Where do you keep your mugs?"

Valia pointed mutely toward a cupboard, stripping batter from a strand of her hair. Qui-Gon removed two mugs, then gestured sweepingly toward the sitting area. Valia picked up the tea and went there without further fuss.

Qui-Gon helped her clean the ceiling, the rest of the kitchen, and her. She cleaned him off to the tune of more apologies, though a smile was beginning to sneak into the corners of her mouth. He allowed himself a low chuckle or two when she was off changing out of her clothes.

Tea poured, they sat companionably close on the couch. But not too close. The raging fire between them had been banked down to comfortable embers now, and neither wanted to stir it out of control again. Valia kept her robe tightly wrapped around her, covering up as much skin as possible. It was dark now, and she left the windows on transparent setting so they could enjoy Galactic City's sparkling skyline. They were having a safe discussion about textiles, sparked by Valia's removal of batter from Qui-Gon's tunic, his further questions about her collection of artwork, and by the textile industries on Qui-Gon's birth world.

His voice fascinated and attracted her. Low and soft. His accent pleasingly tugged at the vowel sounds. She was sure she would have been happy listening to him read aloud from planetary agricultural import/export regulation manuals all day long.

Valia pulled her leg up on the couch and rubbed the healing bite wound.

"Does it hurt?"

"Just a little. I'll probably take a couple more pain killers in a while."

Qui-Gon supposed now might not be a good time to show her some simple pain control exercises. But he wanted to some day. There were so many things he wanted to show her. Places he wanted to take her. So much to share with her. He regarded her longingly from his end of the couch. Valia misinterpreted his look.

"More libidinous fantasies, Master Jinn?" she teased.

"No," he smiled, able to take her jibe with good nature. "No more of those for today. But I promise you will be the only one I'll share them with if I come up with more."

She leaned her head back and smiled, closing her eyes. It felt good to close them, just for a minute. She really was tired. She felt calm and relaxed in his presence. She sat quietly for a time. She had a persistent vision in her mind of green leaves, new spring leaves on delicate twigs, dripping with rain.

"Are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"The leaves. The rain."

"Yes."

"Thank you. It's nice," she murmured. She'd just leave her eyes shut for another minute...

When she woke up, Valia was sure she'd slept away an entire night. It just felt like it ought to be morning. When she felt herself nestled against Qui-Gon's warm bulk, she jerked herself upright. Now what? Had they given in after all and wound up in bed? She saw they were still on the couch and only an hour had passed. He'd moved over to her and wrapped his arms around her. His legs were crossed comfortably and his face rested on the top of her head.

"I'm really being a horrible hostess," she said, settling herself back against him and wanting to never move. He loosely linked his fingers with hers.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." He'd found his own quiet joy in holding her close while she slept. Her hair still smelled faintly like cake batter.

"You're joking again. This is what, the third time I've fallen asleep on you in one day? You're really not boring me that badly."

"Well thank you." He smiled wryly into her soft, sweetly scented hair. "If you want some good advice, I would say you need to pay attention to what your body is trying to tell you."

"I thought I was doing just that, earlier."

His chiseled lips curled into a smile. "You have very selective hearing when it comes to your body." He moved to rise from the couch and surprised her by turning and scooping her up in his arms and standing in one fluid motion. She automatically put her arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed."

He saw the surprised and hopeful look on her face at once. "Taking you to it, not joining you in it," he clarified.

Valia rolled her eyes in exaggerated dismay. "Well, rot."

He started toward the only door that could have led to her bedroom in the small apartment. "Hasty decisions are another one of those perilous traps to be avoided. So is lack of rest."

"Saving me from myself again, Master Jinn?"

"If I must."

She sighed. She couldn't summon the rationale to protest his high-handedness at the moment, especially after this evening. And it did feel good to be taken care of right now, for a change. He made her feel cherished and precious. And respected.

"I think I can probably manage to walk this far."

"I know. But I find I enjoy these excuses to carry you."

_I adore you. _She gave her heart to him with her eyes.

He edged through the doorway and carefully set her down on the bed. He kneeled on the floor next to it, eye-level with her. His eyes were dark with tightly restrained passion. She lay on her side, propping her head up with one arm. Her fingers stroked the side of his face, his chin, his nose.

"I still want you."

"And here I thought you'd changed your mind." He gently rubbed a fleck of dried batter from her cheek. "And I want you. But another time."

She smiled slowly at him. "When?"

"I don't know. When you're ready. When we're both ready. When it feels right. Soon."

"You can tell me I'm going to live to be a hundred, but not _that _day?"

Qui-Gon smiled and closed his eyes. "I'm only a Jedi, not a prophet or clairvoyant. I can't see every detail of the entire future. I'm a bit funny that way."

Valia settled herself back on her bed, at peace with his answer. It was nearly on her tongue to tell him she loved him, but she hesitated. Something told her he wasn't ready to hear it yet, and maybe she wasn't quite ready to say it.

"All right. See you tomorrow?"

"I know where I'll find you."

"Chuluk is going to manage my first store. I have to finish training him."

"I understand."

Her eyelids were heavy and drooped above purple shadows. It was time for him to leave. He ignored the nearly overwhelming urge to stretch out beside her. He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and on both her hands, avoiding the tender trap of her mouth. He rose and slipped away from her.

"Sleep well."

"Don't forget your cloak."

He nodded and was gone. She was asleep before he had thrown his hood over his head and stepped out into the night.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

It was going to be a wet evening and night. Valia walked away from the storefront to get a better look at the building rain clouds in the west. There were no large bodies of water on Coruscant to generate storms or extreme weather, but rain did occur now and again. Just often enough to keep things interesting and rinse away the city dust and grime. She suddenly missed the violent thunderstorms she'd known on Nyme'. Lightning, thunder; loud but largely harmless displays of nature. She was lost in thought on this when she sensed a familiar presence behind her. A large hand settled softly on her shoulder.

"I'll walk you home," Qui-Gon offered. Valia smiled and turned around. He'd courteously taken her back to her apartment nearly every evening for the last several weeks. He'd never stayed, not for lack of Valia's invitations, but contented himself to safely see her home and then be on his way.

The two of them had visited an indoor forest, Coruscant's most extensive art museum, and an open air market where Valia did a lot of her shopping. Qui-Gon was charmingly clueless about the types of things men and women did as couples, so Valia had thought of some "safe" activities they could pursue in public. It had been pleasant, a peaceful relief to spend this time with him. No flirting, no teasing; just conversation. And she was now sure of her feelings for him. But she could not ignore the sense that things were in a state of suspense between them. It was as though they were both waiting for some sort of sign, something that would carry their relationship forward.

"I'll just be a minute," she told him.

She left a message for Chuluk to have a droid clean the flowers off the tables and chairs in the morning, first thing. Even now they messily littered the ground and were dropping around Qui-Gon's shadowy figure as she rejoined him to leave the store. Aahh, spring. She really needed to call her brother or cousins about that blasted tree...

She slid her hand around his forearm on his non-weapon side and he led her away to walk to the transport station. He seemed more quiet and thoughtful than usual this evening. Valia said nothing, content for now just to be near him. His silences did not bother her. Eventually she would find out what was on his mind.

They walked westward across the plaza and descended several wide flights of steps to a lower one. Still he said nothing. They worked their way up three more levels. Valia barely noticed the crowds they passed through. This was a route she had walked for years. She could have done it in her sleep, and had in fact nearly done that many times. Her attention was focused on the man who had to slow down his normal stride for her, and the hand that was lightly holding hers against his arm. He was intent on their surroundings, alert to every person, droid and thing.

They entered the wide-open base of a building. Inside, they boarded an elevator platform which would take them to the top to the departing taxis. At last Qui-Gon spoke.

"I trust your day went well? All ready for your inspection?"

"Yes. It was a busy one. As for the inspection, there's more cleaning to be done. Fruit juice can get into the oddest places." Her first store was scheduled for an inspection in two days. She always passed them with flying colors, but never hated them any less as the years went by.

A gust of humid air rolled over them as they arrived at the top of the station and waited for the right taxi. The smell of rain was strong now.

"Going to start raining any minute now," observed Qui-Gon.

"I know." Valia smiled at him. They took a seat on the taxi next to a window. Valia sat close to him, still holding his arm. The city glided beneath them. The lowering gray clouds hid the tops of the tallest buildings.

"What's on your mind, Qui-Gon?" she finally asked softly. He leaned back against the transparent curved window.

"I'm leaving Coruscant tomorrow for Dantooine. I don't know how long I'll be there." He'd just learned of a brewing civil unrest there from the Senate that morning.

Valia absorbed this bit of news. This is how it was. This is how it was always going to be for them. She sighed. "Well I suppose if you can tell me where you're going, it must not be a too sensitive or dangerous situation."

"Not necessarily. I don't expect it to be, but there are always unforeseen risks."

She caressed the arm she held. He hoped she wouldn't be fretful over him. He sensed her concern and was touched by it. "Don't worry yourself over it," he said lightly.

The notion of his own physical death was of little concern to him, when or how it would occur. It was, however, of much more significance to her. She would undoubtedly worry about the possibility of it happening every time he left her. And her fear and worrying would weigh on him. This was only one part of the danger of involving himself closely with her.

"Obi-Wan will go with you?"

"Yes, of course."

This strangely seemed to comfort her. They lapsed into silence once more. The taxi arrived at Valia's stop and they disembarked. A descent on another platform and more walking. Fine drops of rain began falling in fits and starts. Qui-Gon pulled his hood over his head and lifted the side of his robe around Valia. They were crossing a large courtyard filled with shallow, circular reflecting pools.

"Will you stay a while? Maybe this rain will blow over, and you won't have such a wet trip back." She hadn't asked in a couple of days. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between them that his staying more than a few minutes would almost certainly result in their ending up in bed. This could never be a platonic, hands-off relationship.

When he didn't answer right away, she looked up at him. His face was pensive inside the darkness of his hood. She stopped walking, tugging him to a halt.

"I'm not going to force you." she turned to face him. "So to speak."

"I didn't say no."

"You didn't say yes, either."

She looked away and watched the raindrops fall into the pools, making overlapping rings of ripples. Her insides felt so heavy all at once. From hearing of his leaving. From this uncertainty. "When you told me you had to give yourself permission to...to touch me, to love me, I thought I was listening to you," she began. "But I don't think I was really thinking about what it would mean if you decided not to. If I could accept that." She sat down on the wet stone edging of one of the pools. When he'd told her he had too much respect for her and himself to take advantage of her the night she'd been dopy from antibiotics, she had later wondered if that self-respect was the largest part of that statement. "It's got to be your choice." He'd told her celibacy was highly recommended in the Order, but still a personal choice. As was the decision to deeply involve oneself with a personal relationship. A seriously committed Jedi did not.

"Lia, you're getting soaked." His face wore lines of concern. The rain was falling more steadily now.

"So are you."

He sighed and sat down beside her. Her hair was hanging limply down her back, already dripping.

"I don't want this to cause trouble for you. I can see this thing between us has caused conflict in you, between you and Obi-Wan, and I would imagine your Council is hardly going to approve."

"Obi-Wan has accepted this. His approval is immaterial anyway. And I will be able to focus on training him. As for the Council, my personal affairs are none of their business."

"Don't you care what they think of your standing as a Jedi? Don't you want to be on the Council? Aren't you worried this is going to cause another round of disapproval from them?"

Qui-Gon laughed, but it was a joyless sound. "No, no, and no, in that order, my dear." He put an arm around her. "When I told you I loved you, I meant it with all my heart." He paused thoughtfully. "Even without this, I have somewhat of a reputation for...going my own way." He regarded her intently. Her thoughts were for him, not herself. "You should not concern yourself with things like that, things that are outside your scope of control. What others might do and how they react. You must focus on how you control your own feelings and actions."

She wiped rainwater from her face. "I wish I could see into the future. I was wondering just yesterday if...if our being together is going to turn out to be a mistake." Would this indeed be a crazy mistake, one more painful life lesson for each one of them?

"This doesn't sound like the Lia I know. Living as though each action might be a mistake." He looked down at her. "Does this feel like a mistake to you, my little one?" It certainly didn't to him.

She smiled at him, but for once the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Of course I don't want it to. No. No, it doesn't. But...I am going to miss you while you're gone. It hurts already."

Knowing he should take his own advice about not worrying about the way others might react, he still cringed at the idea of her feeling any kind of pain because of him. It was the last thing he wanted.

"I can walk the rest of the way from here, if you want to get back. You probably have to get ready for tomorrow." She wasn't looking at him, as though she wanted him to be gone and leave her alone to deal with her feelings. "And whatever you decide...I'll respect it." It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to let something go, something she was sure she'd had, because of a decision made by someone else. But there was no bitterness in her now, about this, or about the farm. Just a strange, peaceful acceptance. As though somehow, no matter what, it would all work out for good.

Qui-Gon Jinn sat in the rain next to the woman he'd told he loved. He did. But she was willing to let him go, willing to give him more time or even let him walk away from her completely.

"I love you." She said it abruptly, softly. With certainty. She turned to look him directly in the eyes.

He sat very still. How arrogant he'd been to think he didn't need, didn't want to hear her say that to him, that it didn't matter. If he hadn't already been sitting down, he probably would have had to do so, he was moved so. She loved him. Him.

Enough already. It was too late to go backwards, to fall out of love with her, if that had ever been possible. He was making this more complicated than it had to be. He was thinking about this too much. It was really quite simple. His heart was hammering at him to go to her, to be with her, to love her. What if he did indeed die tomorrow? To never have known her in every way, loved her the way she wanted to be loved...That would be the mistake. He must go forward.

And after all, he was only human.

He stood, and drew her to her feet. She looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"I've had a premonition. That day you were wondering about a few weeks ago?"

She nodded slowly.

"It might just be today."

A smile dawned on her face. He hauled her off her feet and held her against him in a lung-squeezing embrace. She drew her head back to look into his eyes, her surprised face wet. _Now? _

_Now. _

She laughed as he swung her around in joyous, crazy circles in the pouring rain. He kissed her hard and tasted salty tears with the rain. He set her back down and they splashed the rest of the way to her apartment.

Only a passing maintenance droid saw them outside her door. It made agitated, disapproving noises at the rainwater dripping from their clothing all over the hallway floor.

Valia had climbed Qui-Gon like a tree. She'd wrapped one arm and both legs around him. With her other arm she reached back blindly for the door sensor to place her hand on it so it would scan and open. It took some time to accomplish this, locked as she was in a kiss with him. It was whiskery, but most definitely not slow and lazy. It was more like the other kind she'd imagined with him, the plundering kind. At last she got the door to open, and they both nearly fell inside.

The first item of clothing to hit the floor was Qui-Gon's robe. Waterproof only to a point, it was soaked and fell heavily in a sodden heap. Dispensing with any preamble herself, Valia was kicking off her boots and fighting her way out of her own cloak. She flung it aside, hungrily watching him begin to undress. She hopped clumsily out of her pants. They clung stubbornly around her knees. She dropped to the floor to yank them off. After all this, to be thwarted by something like clothing. Deciding to be helpful and since she was already on the floor anyway, she grabbed at Qui-Gon's boots, fumbling with the buckles. She nearly upended him. He laughed at her, and at himself. He joined her on the floor and finished taking them off himself. Returning her helpfulness, he started unbuttoning the front of her shirt. She lunged at his mouth again. He blindly continued to undo the fasteners made tight and awkward by the wet cloth. He kissed her back, reaching out to her mind with his own. He caught the briefest flutter of doubt in her thoughts, despite the frenzy of what they were doing. Did he really want this?

"I'm not going to change my mind," he murmured softly against her cheek. She seemed to relax her greedy grabbing slightly. Now she was tugging at the layers of his tunic, trying unsuccessfully to yank them out from under his belt. She reached for that next, groping around his waist trying to find the fasteners to release it. He finished with her shirt and then undid his belt for her.

He paused just long enough to respectfully lay his lightsaber on an end table and make a mental note of exactly where it was. Then he returned to the battle to remove wet clothing. He shrugged off the first layer of his tunic and pulled the others off over his head. Valia was way ahead him, having stripped everything off but was still struggling with her long sleeves. She was fighting them behind her back. The clinging wet fabric refused to slide off and held her arms prisoners. The wanton picture she made wriggling all but naked on the floor arching her breasts outward had a curiously attractive effect on Qui-Gon. In one swift move he was on her with a noise between a grunt and a growl. She gave a short moan of frustration as she was pinned to the floor, now unable to do anything at all with her arms. She realized she was almost completely naked, more or less tied up, and willingly lying underneath a very large, very sex-deprived man. She shivered with wicked delight at the idea.

"Cold?" He murmured in her ear. She responded with a low laugh.

"No..."

He then reached around to gently help her out of her stubborn sleeves. When her arms were loose she wrapped them around his back, where they belonged. Their moist skin stuck, clung and pulled where it touched. She spread her fingers wide and let them wander all over him. She reclaimed his mouth and tongue. She slid her hands up his neck and clutched handfuls of his damp hair. The idea of seeing him without it tied back appealed to her so she reached up and started working it loose. Qui-Gon made a gruff sound against her mouth. She really wanted everything off. Without breaking his mouth away from hers, he reached up and undid his hair before she could painfully pull at it any harder. He tossed the tie over his shoulder.

He wrapped his own arms around her and cradled her tightly against his chest. He was nearly overcome with the heady sensations of having her this close, of her bare skin against his, her small finely shaped breasts pressed against him. This was going to be all over in about twenty seconds if he didn't slow it down. Finally there was nothing between them. No bar counters, no table, no clothing, no self-forbidding edicts. Nothing to prevent this final physical melding with her.

It occurred to him he was still wearing his trousers. Those would surely be the next thing her long, strong hands would attack. He reached down between their bodies to start removing them himself. She made a short moan to stop him.

"Not on the floor. At least not this time."

His brow wrinkled with curiosity, and he smiled down at her. "And how many times do we do this before the floor is acceptable?"

She only answered him with a shy smile.

"Carry me to bed. Carry me."

Anything she wanted. Anything for her. Such a simple thing to oblige this soft request. He got to his feet and reached down to help her stand. He paused to slowly look her up and down, blatantly admiring her body. He reached toward her hair and slowly removed the combs securing it above her ears. When it tumbled loose, he fisted a damp section of it against the back of her head and pulled her against him for another kiss. She made a low sound of delight as he crushed her against him. She seemed to melt every time he let her see the animal hunger and thirst he had for her.

He lifted her off her feet and carried her the few steps into her bedroom. He placed her carefully on the bed and followed her down onto it. Now she snaked her hands down to his waist and began struggling to remove his pants.

"Patience, my greedy little one..."

"No! Not now!"

He laughed at her, at the nail-raking desire he saw in her beautiful dark half-closed eyes. It was by no means laughter at her expense, because he was sure it only mirrored what was in his own eyes. A very small part of him still couldn't believe he was doing this; that out of everyone in the universe, she felt this way for him. She loved him, wanted him.

There was nothing else to do now but what he usually did in life, and that was to bravely charge forward. The first task was to give the lady what she wanted. He unfastened his trousers and then held out his arms as if to say, go ahead. Valia understood with crystal clarity and pulled everything off, letting her hands skim his body from his waist to his ankles. She carelessly flung this last barrier to the floor.

Oh, my.

What to do first? Valia didn't want to waste time staring at him, but she couldn't help taking a good long look at his rough-cut beauty. What a fine steward of his body he'd been. All that physical conditioning had paid off in the form of lean, large muscles. Everything about him was large, well proportioned. Everything. His eyes bright and his hair wildly loose, he looked down at her unselfconsciously as she checked him out.

When she remembered how to breathe again, she realized he was waiting for a cue from her to tell him exactly how she wanted him to proceed. The thought that had been lurking in the back of her mind pounced forward. What if...What if he had absolutely no idea what to do? She had assumed he would be this fabulously skilled lover, but how could he be after a couple decades of abstinence? She dropped her eyes. It didn't matter. The mental and emotional bond between them was more precious...

"If you're wondering what I think you're wondering," Qui-Gon said softly, "I think I've got the basic mechanics down." He was pulling the covers aside, and gestured for her to get under them. It hadn't taken keen Jedi senses to notice her chill-pebbled skin. "But you are still going to have to tell me what you want, how hard you want it and where you want it done."

Valia pulled him under the covers with her and held him close. She fitted herself against him, savoring the feel of his warm skin and big solid body.

"Let's not get bogged down with technique. This isn't like...saber practice." She smoothed back his hair. "Besides, that makes it sound like I've hired you out for a job," she said with a touch of dismay. She either had a major problem here, or every woman's fantasy: a man whose first concern was her pleasure, who cared little for his own. "This is as much for you as it is for me."

"That didn't come out quite the way I meant." He had laid one hand on her neck and was slowly stroking her jawbone with his thumb. The casually sensuous gesture was making her crazy with desire. She wanted to take it in her mouth.

"Lia...I'm not going to tell you I know you so well that I can guess all of your...preferences. How you like to be touched."

She stroked the wrist of the hand he was touching her face with, so he would leave it there, keep doing that. She had absolutely no problem with what he was doing at the moment.

"Well, I'm not into anything too bizarre or painful."

"I'm so relieved." He held her hand against his face with his other hand and softly kissed her palm. "I'm not either."

What a rare treasure she had here with her. This was a refreshing change from the sexual braggarts of her past. His ego was healthy, but not so big that it kept him from honestly asking her for direction and being considerate of her. She loved him all the more for it. Here, too, was someone who had been the teacher, the master for half his life. He was willing to stop and be the learner if necessary. If he was anything like his student, he'd be a quick study.

But at the moment Qui-Gon truly was at a loss as to what to do next. He didn't know exactly what to do with his hands, where to put them. The hands that could wield a lightsaber as quick as a thought, that could still heft the ancient metal broadsword that had belonged to his master, that could cool a feverish forehead...where exactly did she want him to put them?

Chagrined at her earlier greedy, grabby behavior, Valia had relaxed. She needed to take very good care of him here. She closed her eyes and slowly ran her tongue up his thumb and took it in her mouth. He watched her, captivated by the erotic sight and sensations. She released him and gave him a slit-eyed smile. "Just touch me. Wherever you want. Where do you want to touch me?"

He looked at her with a slightly moonstruck expression. "Everywhere," he whispered.

Valia smiled into his eyes the whole time she was very slowly sliding her hand down his chest, his stomach, a little lower...but not there, not just yet "So do I." She softly dragged parted lips up and down his face. "Are you touch-deprived, Qui-Gon?"

"If I was," his breath caught as her hands caressed, coming close to his sword-like arousal, then skimming away. "I've got a feeling I'm not going to be any more."

They proceeded to lovingly explore one another. His thoughts brushed her mind with the same tenderness his hands did. They communed silently except for the occasional murmured suggestion or endearment, or hushed laugh from her.

What Qui-Gon lacked in experience he made up for with intuition and instinct. His job was made easier in that her sensual nature and marvelously responsive body told him exactly what she wanted. Every flutter of muscle, intake of breath and smile guided him. He learned well, and remembered. He made himself focus on his own sensations and pleasure, the caress of her fingers and lips on him. Just for now, for this, his body's responses were something to be savored for their own sake, not blocked or shunted aside.

She learned, as well. Somehow his hands and lips found odd sweet spots on her she had no idea she had. She wilted helplessly with pleasure when he kissed her between her shoulder blades, on the backs of her ears, a spot between her navel and her hipbone. She found out just where his adventurous mouth was all too willing to go. He left the now familiar territory of her face, neck and breasts and slowly journeyed southward. Valia's smile slowly grew as she watched him. Her knight was on a quest. He left a trail of kisses through the shadow of a breast, across her ribcage, the silky skin of her flat belly, lower still... Would he go there? Would he do that? Oh yes. Oh yes, he would. Valia gasped a small mew of pleasure and arched her back as she gave him this most intimate taste of her. He dragged a pillow over and pushed it under the small of her back. Her fingers tangled in his hair while his tongue found the hard nub of nerves hidden in the pale fur. A short time later, she returned this favor for him. She enjoyed the thrill of briefly having him completely at her mercy. She slanted her eyes so she could see the look on his face while her lips and tongue loved the hot, hard length of him. She was most definitely making him smile.

When the wait became unbearable, when the fire between them had to be quenched, she invited him into her. Her breath hissed between her teeth and she lightly bit his shoulder as his slid into her. She felt his hesitation. Both of them were far from innocent virgins, but he was far too worried about hurting her.

"You're not hurting me," she whispered, encouraging him. "You won't." She arched against his weight, plunging him into her liquid heat to the hilt.

At a complete loss for words or coherent thought, Qui-Gon froze. If only time could stand still just for a while, just so he could absorb the sweetness of being inside her. But she was already urging him to move, grasping at his lower back, his buttocks. Her head was already thrown back in ecstasy. He towered over her, his hands planted on either side of her shoulders. It didn't take long for them to settle on a rhythm that suited them both, to find those perfect ways to apply pressure.

Valia felt herself closing in on her climax. Wanting to take him along with her, she slid her arms up Qui-Gon's, wound her hands through his hanging hair and pulled him down to her. She wanted his mouth on hers and she hungrily claimed it until she could no longer catch her breath through her nostrils. She wrenched away and gasped as she neared the edge. His long sure strokes sent her over.

A nearly forgotten past experience flashed through Valia's mind, the only one that could compare to the intensity of this. As a very small child she had fallen into an irrigation stream and plunged over a small waterfall. The helpless terror and excitement as the current dragged her under and down, the breathless fright at what awaited her. And then the laughter that had filled her to bursting after she'd lived through the ride, to be snatched dripping into some frantic relative's arms. And the desire to jump in again.

She took one last look at the face of her lover before she had to close her eyes. She writhed and gave herself to the convulsive pleasure. She heard herself crying out at the wild sweetness of it.

At last when her breathing had slowed and her heart no longer tried to fly out of her chest, she relaxed her rigid muscles and went pliant and sweaty beneath him. She relaxed her fingers from where they threatened to gouge his kidneys.

Qui-Gon watched her climax with fascination, the way it consumed her body and spirit. He felt her convulsively flutter and clutch around his shaft as though to pull him impossibly deeper into her. A light sheen of love sweat bloomed on her. She smiled dreamily and opened her eyes.

Why had he stopped? Panting, Valia gave him a questioning look. Even now, unbelievably, he was holding himself back. What did he need from her, what did he want? He eyes softly pleaded for him to let go, take what she'd just enjoyed, join her in the rapturous place she was. She slid her legs along his, and around him. She stroked her hands over him, caressing wherever she could reach, the deep curve of his lower back, the hollow between his shoulder blades. Without another move he spilled himself into her. His brows contorted in an agonized expression and his neck corded as pleasure roughly savaged him. He went rigid, completely pinning her against the bed. A deep groan and a sigh escaped him as he buried his face into the side of her head. He hoarsely whispered her name.

For some minutes there were no words. No thoughts. Valia held him to her, stroking his hair. She could have held him like that forever. At last Qui-Gon raised his head. He pushed both their hair out of their faces and looked at her with eyes gone dreamy as hers. Her eyelids fluttered downward and she smiled demurely. He nearly laughed. After what they'd just shared, and now she went all shy on him. Yet he understood her sudden need for a little space, and he gave it to her, saying or thinking nothing while his heart flooded to impossibly new heights with more love for her.

She reflexively clung to him when he shifted off her.

"I'm not going anywhere just yet, my sweet." he murmured. He took one of her hands and threaded his fingers through hers while he reached around the top of her head with his other to stroke the fine silky hair at her temple. He kissed the outer corners of her closed eyes, her eyelids. He rubbed the tip of her nose with his own. She smiled at the tickling and at his sweet urgings to come back to him. She stroked his wild banner of hair. Her hand swept up and down his back with light, tentative possessiveness.

_Yours, his_ eyes told her when she looked into them. She smiled. She could feel his emotions pulsing wildly, surrounding her. She'd never felt this close to another being in her life. She squeezed him with her arms. _Yours, _hereyes answered.

Eventually Valia's practical nature surfaced. "All those wet clothes on the floor," she murmured against his furry jaw. "They aren't going to pick themselves up, I suppose."

"So?" came the mildly insolent response. His newly confident hands were starting another quest on her body. Great flaming gobs of...she wanted him again already, and there was ample evidence pressed against her thigh he wanted her again, too.

"Do we need to put them back on again?" he asked her from between her breasts. He took one nipple in his mouth.

Valia's lips curved into a lazy smile that told him she was perfectly satisfied with their current state of dress.

"Then leave all that be for now..."

Qui-Gon Jinn was propped on his elbows, concentrating on not flinching. Among the many things he had learned this evening was how ticklish his own ears were. The upper edge of his left one was between Valia's teeth and lips.

"You have the cutest ears. They're irresistible," she told him as she lay sprawled across his back, nibbling on him. He laughed softly. One more vital piece of information he had never known.

Valia's apologies for the scratches she'd left on his lower back were tempered with a sly glitter in her eyes. Qui-Gon's reassurances that they were nothing to worry about came to her with a flickering smile that widened as she told him she hoped no one would see them. The teasing look on his face suggested he might be dared into displaying them for nothing more than shock value, his own dignity intact. She shot him a look of her own, then doctored them with a synth-flesh derived solution that made them disappear.

They'd stayed in bed as darkness fell on the rainy city outside. He'd gently winnowed his fingers through her hair until it was dry. She'd traced every scar on him with her fingertips and lips, particularly the long one across his upper back. She'd wanted to know the stories behind them all. Touched, he smiled as she tried to kiss away their long forgotten pain.

Valia thought his wonderment over her own body was hilarious. He was curiously fascinated by minutiae that she didn't think to notice, and things that privately revolted her, such as the stretch marks on the sides of her breasts and the long hairs around her navel. She laughed at his loving revelment in her. He made her feel like a miraculous creation.

When her stomach growled hungrily against his back, he turned to regard her questioningly.

"Oh, rot," she laughed. "I'm afraid I hadn't planned on eating in tonight. There's nothing ready to eat in the kitchen. How about you? Are you hungry?"

Banishing fear was second nature to a Jedi. Yet a look of extreme concern crossed Qui-Gon's face at the idea of her in the kitchen. She playfully shoved him when she saw it. "I'm not going to cook, all right? I'll order something in."

"Did you have other plans tonight?"

"Nothing that can't be missed."

"Lia...?"

"Just someone's birthday party. Probably too much eating, drinking, smoking, dirty stories..."

"Do you want to go?"

Valia looked at him as if he'd gone mad. She pushed him over on his back. "That had better be more of your droll wit, Master Jinn," she warned teasingly. "No," she smiled. "I'm staying right here. And so are you. I'd rather party with you."

"At least you're appropriately dressed."

"Oh, ha, ha. Yes. In my birthday suit."

"It's very lovely," he said placing a kiss in what was becoming one of his very favorite spots on her body, the satiny skin between her breasts. He drifted over to where he could feel her heartbeat with his lips and sighed. "So nice."

"I really like yours, too."

"It serves. If you don't mind a bit of wear and tear."

"Not at all." She affectionately held his head to her and nuzzled the top of his head, trying to memorize the scent of him. Something to keep with her when he was gone. "Speaking of clothes..." She reluctantly pulled away from him and went to a closet. "I have something for you." She pawed through the clothes stuffed into it until she found what she was looking for. She'd taken a calculated risk in buying the robe. She smiled as she turned to offer it to Qui-Gon, thinking the gamble had paid off very nicely. "I know you can't take material gifts, but this is for you to wear while you're here."

A lopsided smile tugged at Qui-Gon's mouth. The picture he made reclining in the hopeless tangle of her bed made Valia want to fling it aside and leap on him again. Then she smiled too, at the comical irony of her worrying about offending his Jedi code of ethics. After the two of them had quite enthusiastically pounded part of them into the sheets.

"Thank you," he said simply, taking it from her.

She tossed on her own robe. "Not that I mind you staying the way you are, but I want you to be comfortable." She sighed. "I suppose I'd better tell Ravi or someone I won't be there tonight. I need to think up some good excuse." She straightened her pale thick mane of hair.

"There's no need to tell lies. There's also no need to reveal too much, either."

"You're right. Then I'll see about getting us some dinner."

"You don't need to go to all kinds of trouble on my behalf."

"But I want to."

He started to protest again, and she quickly sank down on the bed beside him and held a finger to his lips. "Let me take care of you. Please."

Qui-Gon saw it would be wise to acquiesce.

Valia busied herself at her comm station between the living room and the kitchen. Qui-Gon settled himself on the couch to catch a news holo. He recognized Ravi's voice. He heard his loud squawk of protest from the other end of the voice-only link. This was followed a short time later by a raucous and knowing laugh. Valia firmly and repeatedly refused his entreaties for more information and to turn on the visual link. Valia's side of the conversation consisted of pleading alternated with humorous threats. Having settled on a particular shade of the truth for the young playwright to convey to the rest of the party, they ended the conversation. There followed a link-up to a favorite restaurant, where Valia gleefully selected items, the number and variety of which made Qui-Gon give her a curious look from across the room. She answered him by flashing him a grin. She then bypassed the menu and had a very chatty exchange with the restaurant's owner.

Finished, she joined him on the couch. But first she paused to admire him. The floor-length black silk robe suited him quite well. She had longed to see him in something other than his usual serviceable brown. It was loose and roomy, even on his big frame, but damn, was he doing nice things to the fabric. There lounged a dark, muscular warrior, a noble ambassador, but mostly a satisfied male who had just been well and thoroughly loved.

An astonishing amount of food was delivered a short time later, and the meal that followed was unique, at least to Qui-Gon. He typically ate because his body told him it was time to do so. He was wise and conservative in his eating habits, but he could savor the delights of good cooking. Yet he would have been hard pressed to recall the exact flavors of the food that he'd eaten this night, mostly because of the inventive ways in which it was served to him. His hostess had taken great delight in selecting items that didn't require a utensil to eat. She used her fingers to feed him, and when they both discovered he enjoyed it, her lips. While he didn't feel so strongly toward food, he took pleasure in watching her be seduced by the sensual flavors and textures of their feast. He enjoyed her rapture when he peeled a small fruit for her and fed her the juicy segments inside one by one. He cracked the shells of steamed shellfish and let her nibble the soft morsels from his fingers.

The meal became a playful game. Valia placed a morsel of marinated meat in her cleavage and tossed him an inviting look. When he hesitated, her look became a dare. She yelped and laughed when he lunged at her and snatched it off her with his mouth. She squirmed helplessly as he held her still and cleaned every trace of sauce from her skin. She served the rest of the meal to him using her body as his plate.

"Your table manners are...unspeakable, Miss Traxis," he murmured against the skin of her belly. He'd never done anything like this in his life.

"Oh, as if I eat like this every day. As if you've got room to talk." She smiled sweetly and picked several bread crumbs out of his hair and a bit of sautéed Mimban tree orchid root out of his beard. "As if you didn't enjoy it."

"I confess. I did." It had been scandalously delicious.

"I've got many more ideas I think you would enjoy."

"Hmmmm." He gave her an indulgent smile. She took her fleshly pleasures quite seriously. He was going to have to be very cautious. Later.

"Teacher you might be, but I'll bet I could teach you a thing or three."

"I have no doubt you could." She already had.

"A famous philosopher once said, when the student is ready, the teacher appears."

"That is true, but I'm not sure if this is the type of thing he was talking about." She had sat up from where she had been lying on the table and was sliding her hands under his robe. One of her hands coasted down his stomach and closed around his yet again iron-hard member. They were nose to nose. He was losing himself in her eyes again. And her body. Her breasts and erect nipples were rubbing against his chest. She sighed and sensuously licked his face from his cheekbone to his temple.

"You philosophy-quoting little hedonist..." he rasped against her cheek. He spanned her waist with his hands and roved them downward over her buttocks. He pulled her to him off the table and down to the floor on top of him. "Decadent little wench," he murmured, roughly pulling her robe open. She drew in a shuddering breath, suddenly unbelievably turned on by what passed for dirty talk from him and his abrupt taking charge.

"On the floor. Do me on the floor. Right now," she whispered as she helped him inside her.

It was so much faster when there wasn't all that clothing to fumble with. She rode him to a simultaneous, shouting climax on her kitchen floor.

When their breathing had slowed to contented quiet, she raised her head from his shoulder. She stifled a giggle as she surveyed the apartment. It hadn't been in a state like this in years. But it was truly a joyous mess. She smiled blissfully.

"Looks like someone had quite a party here."

Qui-Gon dazedly studied the ceiling from his position on the floor. He considered the tempting idea of falling asleep right where he lay, complete with foolish smile on his face. The odd expression 'loved to death' crossed his mind. However he sat up and joined her in looking at the room. "I'll help clean this up." He kindly plucked a piece of izziwip peel out of her hair. "Then we'd both better get some sleep."

Together they attacked the disorder and mess. They gathered strewn clothing and fed it to the laundry processor. They put uneaten food into storage and discarded the scattered empty containers. Valia restored the destroyed bed back to order while Qui-Gon ordered the sweeper droid through several cycles over her floors.

They washed up and joined in her bed to sleep. Qui-Gon would have preferred the floor, closer to the simple pallet he was used to. But this night he would forgo habit and a bit of sleep just to be close to her for a few more hours. Cuddled against him, Valia drifted to sleep first in a haze of warm contentment. He held her with his nose and lips buried in the hair at the crown of her head and soon followed her.

Qui-Gon woke knowing exactly where he was and why he was there. The room was completely dark but he knew where she was and how she lay. She slept as she lived, openly and honestly. She was on her back, her arms flung wide, taking up nearly the entire bed. Clearly she was not used to sharing it with someone else. He'd nearly wound up on the floor after all. Still, he decided he liked waking up next to her very much. He slid on his belly until he was leaning over her face. He savored a moment to admire her. Then he took a section of his hair and lightly brushed it across her nose. She frowned and reached up to rub it. She settled back to sleep. He brushed her cheek and chin. This time she growled and rolled over. He sensed her reluctant awakening.

"Good morning," he greeted her softly. There was a long silence. Then she moaned.

"If you say so." She could sense nothing but darkness through her eyelids. What in the Core Worlds was he doing awake already at this hour, sounding happily full of himself? Hadn't she just closed her eyes mere minutes ago?

"Come out and watch the sunrise with me."

There was the expected silence from her in response to this request during which Qui-Gon could see the pained disbelief wrinkling her silky brows. Fuzzy questions stumbled over each other in her mind. "Why?" She settled for the simplest one.

"Because I believe in starting the day early. And I know it's going to be a good one."

Valia rolled her face into her pillow and muttered several piquant oaths and gutter words. Qui-Gon heard something about Jedi torture, self-deprivation, self-denial...

"Not a morning person, are you?" he observed lightly.

"Qui-Gon, when I left the farm ten years ago, I left the hours that went with it."

"It's such a shame to watch these things all alone sometimes."

She rolled back to face him and opened one eye. "You're sure it's going to be good?"

"Trust me."

She slid her arms around him. Oh, my. She sighed dreamily. He was incredibly warm, as though his body were the vessel for a living fire. She snuggled against him, her cheek against his collarbone. The steady beat of his big heart was going to lull her back to sleep again. But she knew he would persist in waking her up.

"Oh, all right. For you." She raised her arms over her head and stretched sensually, a languid motion that included every finger and every toe. Her body arched against his.

The speed of their mutual arousal shocked them both. Valia saw the surprise and then the passion flicker in his eyes. They shone in the barely-there predawn light.

"Good morning," he said again, but with an altogether different tone of voice.

"Oh yeah..." she breathed.

They surrendered to each other for the fourth time. Valia was beginning to get sore, but there was no getting enough of him. They made love slowly and with aching sweetness this time, the last time for a while. This time she strongly felt his want, his need for her. He hesitantly asked her to say it again, tell him she loved him. She did. Over and over. And she showed him. Because he sounded like he felt this was so much to ask of her. Because he asked almost nothing for himself. She held him to her fiercely as moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. She blinked it away and swallowed the tight ache in her throat as she pressed her cheek against his. She lay weakly, wrung out from her climax. "Jinn..." she barely whispered. The softer, easier of his names just slipped from her as an endearment.

The sky was barely beginning to lighten as they quickly dressed and left her apartment. They walked to a nearby east-facing court on the edge of a spectacular drop-off. They sat together on the edge of a stone terrace. The rain had ended, leaving the air fresh and cool. Valia huddled under her cloak and part of his, trying to get warm. She tried to remember the last time she'd been out and about at this hour. She'd given up the parties and club hopping until dawn several years ago.

While they waited for the sunrise, they talked about nothing and everything. Qui-Gon told her more about his relationship with Xanatos, his second apprentice. Valia finished her story about her miscarriage at the age of sixteen, and the ineptitude of the medical facilities that had cost her a functioning uterus and a great deal of her self-esteem for years.

"By the time the medic droid put everything back together in there, no one was sure what was left. As if accidental pregnancy, miscarrying, emergency butchering by inadequately programmed droids wasn't bad enough, then I had to live with my father's total rejection for the next three years. I got off Nyme' as soon as I could." She idly scuffed a boot toe in a crack between the stone-crete pavers. "I sometimes think he was just as disappointed that it wasn't a distant cousin or family member I'd gotten pregnant by." One of his potential husband selections for her.

"One day you really should think about making your peace with him," Qui-Gon said after a pause.

"I suppose. I know, I'll never really heal inside if I don't." Valia waved a hand dismissively. She'd heard this before.

"Of course, all that will only happen after you make peace with yourself over it."

"I..." Valia started to insist that she had, then stopped, thinking. Well, she had. Hadn't she? In any case she didn't want to spend her last few minutes with Qui-Gon arguing. She glanced at him, her eyes promising a rousing debate over the subject at a later time. Qui-Gon pulled her close and gestured to the horizon where color was beginning to bloom. They watched the clouds pick up delicate paintbrush strokes of scarlet, pink and gold. Coruscant's star peeked above the far buildings and splashed orange light across the shiny building surfaces.

Valia sighed as the light finally fell across her face. It had been far too long since she'd seen a sunrise.

"You were right. It is a good one. It's beautiful."

Qui-Gon gave her a smile with more than a trace of 'I told you so' in it.

It was past time for him to go. Valia stood on the terrace edge to hug him. She sternly told herself she would not give in to tears even as her eyes started to sting. The heavy weepiness that had begun in her earlier welled up in her again. She hadn't felt like crying this much in years. She turned her head away to try to control herself. When he drew back to look at her questioningly, she pinched her eyes shut.

"I was going to wait until you were gone to do this." The last thing he needed was some blasted fool weeping female. "Damn it," she muttered squeakily.

"Oh now, don't be too hard on yourself."

Valia opened her eyes to look at him. Was that moisture in the corners of his eyes?

She pushed at him. "You'd better go." He didn't move. Instead he enveloped her in another hug. She knew it sounded ridiculous, but she said it anyway. "I can't live without touching you."

"Yes, you can. You will. You must. We both must," he said into her hair. He drew back and made her look at him. "Do you think this is all I'm made of?"

When she didn't answer, he nudged her suggestively with his pelvis. "Hmm?"

She laughed and sniffed. Of course he was so much more than the physical body standing before her. As was she.

"Well no, but I...I've come to love that part of you."

"Oh, how well I know..." Already he was hoarding away memories of loving her to store in a far corner of his mind where they would be treasured, and not distractions.

"You have my heart," he told her, caressing her face with the backs of his fingers. "Even if I'm not here, I'll still be with you. And you with me."

Valia remembered thinking at one time how sappy the concept of seeing forever in someone's eyes sounded. Until now. She saw it. She actually saw a glimpse of eternity in his blue eyes. The ache in her throat dissolved away and peace came over her.

"Be well, my love. I'll see you soon." He slowly backed away from her, sliding free of her hands. With a last look at her over his shoulder, he walked away.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Docent Kerrlkin shoved the squalling baby boy at Valia.

"He's a little cranky today. Maybe you can settle him down."

An open-mouthed Valia regarded the squirming red-faced human infant in her arms. She adjusted her hold, trying not to drop him, and trying to make him more comfortable.

"Whatever is the matter? Can you tell auntie Lia what's wrong?" She instinctively began making foolish nonsense noises to him that might have had some of her friends wondering if she'd lost her mind. All this felt a bit unfamiliar yet, but was becoming more natural to her as the weeks went by.

She walked toward a high-ceilinged chamber with tall windows that had a balcony along one side. The baby had seemed to like the light-filled room on the south side of the Jedi Temple before, so she gently rocked him as she took him there, softly telling him where they were going and how happy she hoped it would make him.

She sat down on a comfortably curved bench and settled the Jedi infant on her lap. He was so cute, so fuzzy and blonde. He already seemed happier. She was rocking him, cooing to him. She could just about fall in love with him right now, crankiness and all. She nuzzled her cheek against his head. She pushed aside the thought of his possibly distraught mother somewhere worlds away. She was so engrossed she would not have heard anyone enter the room behind her.

When she felt the tickle of a familiar presence, she smiled and told herself it was just her wishful imagination. Qui-Gon was still gone. It had been nearly three weeks this time. She told herself to stop worrying about him. But she missed him terribly.

She was trying to remember some old half-forgotten Nymean nursery songs when the insistent tickle came again. This time she turned to look behind her. There he was. In the flesh. Qui-Gon stood in the doorway, smilingly admiring her, apparently transfixed by her. Her heart danced. She wanted to jump up and go to him, but putting Corbin down would probably let loose the squalling she had just contained. So she stayed seated and invited him to her with her eyes.

She slid over so he could sit next to her on the bench. He casually straddled it beside her. With her free hand she stroked his face in an affectionate greeting. He looked scruffy, as though his beard needed trimming, and his cheeks looked a bit more hollow since she'd last seen him. But he'd sought her out first before taking care of personal details. He kissed her cheek, intending to keep his own greeting on a polite level until later. At the first contact with her skin, he couldn't help continuing over to her mouth.

"Hi," she whispered after their lips parted.

"Hi there," he answered with soft joy. He glanced down at the spit-bubbling child resting in the crook of her arm. "This little one is very, very lucky, you know."

She looked up at him questioningly.

"Aside from knowing the sweet peace of being held in your arms, he is in a much better place than where he was born. He was sold for drugs by his mother on Kessel."

Valia could find nothing to say to this. She looked back down at Corbin and held him closer. He had quieted, and even showed signs of getting sleepy. He seemed mesmerized by Qui-Gon, who carefully reached out to touch his tiny nose. He responded with a drooly smile. Valia leaned against Qui-Gon and allowed herself to entertain the totally frivolous thought that the only way she might be happier than she already was at this moment was if they were married and this was their child.

Neither one of them saw Yoda as he shuffled to a stop near another doorway. He silently observed the two of them and the baby. He sighed and his ears drooped. He'd foreseen something like this for Qui-Gon. Too big for his own good, that one's heart was. Too close, he could get. And these two were very close. He noted the way he was nearly wrapped around her as if he were drawing life and light from her. Unable to resist it, or her. The way his fingers were intimately twined with hers as she held the baby suggested they were sharing a great deal more than a seat on a bench. Still, there was a radiant peace coming from the Jedi that he hadn't seen in years. Maybe never. He silently drifted away from the door, leaving them alone. Speak to Qui-Gon privately later, he would. He could always visit the babies later. For now, he would wait and think on the wisest course of action for this, if there was one. This was a decision only Qui-Gon could make. There would be sorrow in losing him from the Order, should that be his choice.

To be continued…


End file.
